


One Of The Good Guys

by MelissaMotown



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:23:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 129,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelissaMotown/pseuds/MelissaMotown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story about a love; big enough to survive. And it's about forgiveness, second chances and trusting that there is something good in us all. "One Of The Good Guys" takes place a year after "A Song For Cordelia".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Never Fall Asleep

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to "A Song For Cordelia". I had never imagined it would take me this long to start posting but I'm excited to finally share this story with you.
> 
> Writing Klaine staying together is much harder than writing Klaine falling in love - but I'm getting the touch, hopefully. ;)
> 
> I will post every Wednesday and every Sunday and then I hope I can keep up.
> 
> Hope you will enjoy the ride and please tell me what you think along the way.

_Every time he looked into the blue eyes he was always met with a promise of love. At times unspoken, but always conveyed; kept just for him, given freely and gladly along the steps they walked together. A trust so deeply rooted that it stayed unchangeable through all changes. Every word in every song that his mind created was connected to_ _**him** _ _somehow, because that was how he felt about Kurt, that's how he had always felt about Kurt._

**Saturday**

Blaine's golden eyes tracked every detail in the majestic church in Old Greenwich as if he was trying to snap a mental picture for later memories. The arched raw limestone-ceiling, ornamented with sculptured angels was soaring high above them. The crystal chandeliers unfolded a glittery reflection to it's surroundings. And the soft light from the candles flickered; one on each row; connected by ivory satin drapings that led all the way from the door in the back, up to the altar where he now stood.

Kurt had outdone himself with the decorations and it left Blaine proud and emotional as he took it all in.

With a deep breath he tried to release the tension, spreading from his neck down to his shoulders. Cooper was standing right next to him, stoic and calm with his familiar radiant smile. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson were sitting in the front row. James, in a perfectly tailored black suit with a lavender bow tie and Rebecca, wearing a gorgeous dress in a matching color. They were a beautiful couple and their pride for Cooper and Blaine showed in every smile. So much had changed for them as a family ever since Blaine reconciled with his father. The relationship had developed from a stumbling start to a new trust Blaine had never dared dream about just a couple of years ago. But it was not just them as a family, it was his parents marriage, too. Something had sparked between them that hadn't been there for as long as Blaine could remember.

He caught his father's eyes and found nothing but assurance and his mother winked with a warm expression on her face.

"Don't be nervous, baby brother," Cooper whispered amused, knowing that everybody was watching their every move.

"I'm not nervous," Blaine objected quietly without looking at his brother. "Why should  _I_  be nervous? I have nothing to be nervous about?"

Cooper made a funny noise, subtle, but mockingly. "Sweet, Blaine, really sweet. I know you better than that."

Blaine switched the weight between his feet. YouTube was loaded with video's of people fainting at the altar, because they were standing in the same position for too long. And he refused to draw that kind of attention to himself right now. He closed his eyes to focus for a minute, but was interrupted a moment later by commotion from the door. Everything was ready.

The two brothers straightened up as the anticipation in the crowd grew and soon the first chords from the beautiful ornamented organ announced the celebration of a love story.

The tall doors at the end of the church opened and with the sunlight streaming from behind, Katie stood tall with her father by her side. She looked almost royal in the way she gracefully held herself. Whatever nervousness or hesitance she must have experienced, distinctly faded away the moment she found Cooper's eyes. And a beautiful smile lit up her face.

Blaine lost his breath for a moment. Not only because of her beauty but because she was the key to his brothers happiness in every aspect.

Katie was all Cooper had ever needed. The last year had proved that in abundance. She was kind and mild, loved Cooper to death, but didn't let him get away with everything. Cooper was happy and bright whenever they were together and she could turn a bad day around for him in a heartbeat if things had been difficult at work.

She had connected with Blaine instantly and soon she had proved to understand the complicity between the Anderson brothers and their parents in a way he hadn't anticipated of an outsider.

Katie's mom had committed suicide when Katie was 15. And with the difficult teenage years ahead she'd been forced to struggle her way through life, mourning the loss of a mother and picking up a devastated father.

But today, as they walked down the aisle, Katie's hand tucked safely under the crook of her father's elbow, they looked happy and at peace.

Katie's wedding gown was a dream of ivory silk. Draped and tailored to cling to the beautiful curves of her body. The sweetheart neckline was decorated with a row of laced roses that continued down the back. Katie and Ally had worked out the design together and Ally had used hours and hours, sewing and fitting until it was perfect. The jewelries were elegant and expensive and her dark brown hair was half way up and loosely braided around fresh, creamy roses, continuing down her veil.

Blaine forced his eyes away from the bride for a moment and turned to his brother. Cooper looked melted and unglued as he blinked the tears away. Everything was just the way it was supposed to be, he thought, and soaked it all in.

Then Blaine caught a sight of the love of his life, seated in the second row behind his parents. Kurt met his stare with calm blue eyes and a subtle smile, and Blaine lingered on the beautiful features and the perfectly formed mouth. Absentmindedly he licked his lips. The response came right away as Kurt bit his bottom lip and held his breath. Blaine tried to control his smile but an arched eyebrow and a daring look from Kurt made it impossible. How do you resist a flirting boyfriend at a wedding?

With Katie and her dad safely arriving at the altar Cooper greeted his bride with a kiss on her cheek and then whispered something in her ear. She smiled and mouthed a "thank you" before he led her to her chair. And with everyone seated the ceremony began.

Blaine followed everything closely from the songs to the ministers speech for the happy couple. But ever so often he was distracted by Kurt.

He was more in love than ever.

He and Kurt had been together for a year now and their anniversary celebration still stirred right underneath Blaine's skin; warm and vibrant. So much had happened in their life recently. After clutching most of their stuff together at Kurt's apartment in Bushwick for too long they had taken over Cooper's old apartment when he had moved in with Katie. And despite the distance they had kept the loft as the center of their company's production. And with the spare bedroom, they could still spend the night in Bushwick if necessary.

"A Song For Cordelia" had been picked up, with Kurt as leading man, by a pretty prestigious off-Broadway theater only a couple of months after the final show with the Pantheon Theater Group. And Blaine's band "Sound Of Seduction" was constantly booking new gigs, which meant that their overall financial situation had improved substantially.

Blaine still breathed the air around Kurt and couldn't believe he had been lucky enough to be with this amazing man every day. To live together had proved to be much more challenging, intense and rewarding than they had ever foreseen.

Blaine finally trusted Kurt to stay with him - even through his momentarily insufferabilities. He had learned to believe enough in them to share everything with Kurt and not back down if his opinion led to a fight. Kurt, on his hand, worked hard on his impatience and tried to slow down when Blaine felt decisions were made too fast. They had one rule in the everyday life of their relationship. They were not allowed to fall asleep in the middle of an argument. It  _had_  to be worked out before they closed their eyes.

Kurt lingered on Blaine's face too, obviously just as distracted. Blaine mouthed a "I love you", which made his boyfriend blush before he mouthed a "I love you too," back.

He could still make Kurt Hummel blush and it felt empowering. Blaine cleared his throat and joined the rest of the congregation in singing a psalm Cooper and Katie had chosen together.

One day he would ask Kurt to marry him and he couldn't wait for that day. But the timing had to be right and he still needed to figure out how to do it. It should be grand and unforgettable, completely over the top.

Cooper leaned closer. "Isn't she just beautiful?"

Blaine smiled and looked in Katie's direction. "She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he whispered back.

"You have the rings, right?"

"Of course; you've already asked; before the ceremony. Don't you remember?"

Cooper shifted in the chair. "Did I?"

"Now look who's nervous," Blaine teased.

Cooper never got the chance to answer back before the minister asked the bride and groom to join him at the altar. A shaky breath left the older brother as he got up. Blaine padded him on his back. "She's about to be yours," he said with a smile.

Katie reached out for her husband-to-be and intertwined their fingers before she whispered something calming to him, and together they walked the few steps up to the minister.

"Dearly beloved." The minister began and addressed all the smiling faces waiting in anticipation. "We are gathered here today, in the sight of God and this company, to witness and celebrate one of life's greatest moments, to give recognition to the worth and beauty of love, and to add our best wishes and blessings to the union of Katherine and Cooper. Before we proceed with the traditional vows the bride and groom have a few words they would like to say to each other. Katherine will go first."

Everybody in the church got quiet and only a muffled sound of handkerchiefs being pulled out of secret places escaped the silence.

Katie turned to Cooper and grabbed both of his hands, lingering in the connection between them for a moment before she started.

"I once read a word of wisdom that goes like this: When people build up walls, it's not to keep others out, but to see who cares enough to break them down," she said. Then her voice broke a bit. "Cooper, you cared enough to break down my walls and I will be forever grateful for that. You have shown me that love should be embraced to the fullest instead of questioned all the time. You have taught me that true strength is hidden in vulnerability. And you have proved to me that even in my darkest hours your arms will always cover me. You are the bravest and most caring man I know. And there is nothing that I'd rather do than spend the rest of my life with you."

Blaine could only see the back of his brother, but the reaction from people around them told all he needed to know. He caught a sight of his mother's teary eyes and Katie's dad couldn't have looked any prouder. Kurt was blinking fast until Santana, who was seated next to him, handed him a tissue and with an eyeroll had to take one for her self as well.

Cooper cleared his voice and everybody got silent again. The strong, tall man, who was never at loss of words all of a sudden had to take a moment.

"Katie, loving you is the easiest thing I have ever had to do," he then said. "Asking you out for the first time however, was the hardest." People laughed muffled around him and Katie nodded with a smirk. "You came into my life when I had expected it the least, you swept me off of my feet and grounded me at the same time. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, inside and out, and try as I may I can't help feeling lost when you're not around. To stand here today with you, my darling, is my biggest accomplishment and my greatest joy. Katie ... you are the love of my life."

With those beautiful statements the minister took his bible and turned to Cooper. "Cooper Edgar Anderson do you take Katherine Annalee Stone for your lawful wedded wife, to live in the holy state of matrimony?"

"I do," Cooper answered.

"Will you love, honor, comfort and cherish her from this day forward, for as long as you both shall live?

"I certainly do."

The last response put smile on everybody's lips once more.

Then the minister turned to Katie. "Katherine Annalee Stone, do you take Cooper Edgar Anderson for your lawful wedded husband, to live in the holy state of matrimony?"

"I do," Katie said.

"Will you love, honor, comfort and cherish him from this day forward, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

As the words settled in the beautiful church it was as all nervousness left the happy couple. They repeated their vows, loud and clear, after the minister and Cooper managed to put the ring on Katie's finger without problems. And sealed with a kiss that no one would forget for a

while the minister presented Mr. and Mrs. Stone-Anderson.

Rose petals were raining down over the newlyweds when they walked down the aisle, smiling and waving as if royalty was running in their veins. Behind them came James and Rebecca Anderson next to Katie's dad; smiles as broad as could be.

Blaine walked the few steps to Kurt's row and reached out to him with a subtle smile. Kurt proudly connected their hands and positioned himself next to his boyfriend. "Hello there," Kurt said under his breath before they slowly followed the procession out, right behind Rebecca and James.

"Hi handsome," Blaine responded softly. "Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

"You have," Kurt responded, making sure to smile to the guests they passed by. "But today I'm wearing clothes, so I might be hard to recognize," he whispered through barely moving lips.

Blaine didn't have time to catch the snort that escaped him. "Kuuurt," he gasped and bit the inside of his cheek as various pictures of a very hot and very naked Kurt passed before his inner eye.

"What?" Kurt asked innocently.

Blaine wet his lips and waved to one of his cousins and her family, focused on composing himself in front of hundreds of more or less familiar faces. "I'm at my brothers wedding and we're supposed to behave, remember?"

Kurt sighed happy. "That sounds like a challenge to me," he said and winked at Fred and Ally.

"I don't stand a chance, do I?" Blaine moaned and welcomed the familiar coil of feelings gathering low in his stomach.

"Well, you seem to have a very hard time saying no to me."

"I'm tempted to say " _try me"_  but you're right. I find it very difficult to say no to you." They looked at each other right before reaching the door and started giggling.

Blaine's mother turned at the commotion. "Well the two of you seem to be having fun," she said with a knowing smile.

Kurt froze on the spot. "Um … we are, Rebecca" he managed to say more high pitched than usual and blushing like a tomato overdue to the point of near explosion. He frantically pulled Blaine away once they stepped outside. "Oh my god, you don't think she overheard our conversation, do you?" he asked worried.

Blaine put on a smug smile. "And what if she did?" he asked with a shrug. The sun was shining as if it was paid it to do so and people were making a beeline to the bride and groom to congratulate them.

"You have got to be kidding!" Kurt objected. "Then I'll never be able to look her in the eyes again. She must think I'm some kind of sex monster, seducing her youngest son at any given moment."

Blaine put a hand on Kurt's soft cheek. "Well, it's not that far from the truth, is it?"

Kurt opened his mouth to say something but closed it again and allowed himself to get lost in the amber eyes instead.

"Come," Blaine said and kept their fingers intertwined. "Let's go tease Mr. and Mrs. Stone-Anderson, shall we?"

* * *

The afternoon wedding reception was held at a venue next to the church and was a great opportunity to mingle and make sure that everybody felt welcome and seen. As best man Blaine had certain obligations and Kurt was happy to join him and make himself look the best way possible as he met the entire Anderson family, from aunts and uncles, to cousins and spouses. Things got particularly tricky if people had been divorced and had remarried, bringing stepchildren into the family. Then even Blaine had to fake it for a while.

When they walked back to the buffet for a refill of appetizers and champagne Blaine elbowed Kurt and nodded subtle in the direction of a chubby man, filling his plate up to the top as he repeatedly wiped his greasy fingers off in his suit.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Someone should offer that man a napkin."

"It's Katie's second cousin, Miles," Blaine explained. "We're supposed to look after him a bit today. He might want to cause some trouble later on and I promised Katie to keep him on a short leash."

"What kind of problems?" Kurt asked, not pleased with the assignment at all.

Blaine grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed Kurt one of them "When he gets drunk he becomes a bit nasty, and apparently he gets drunk a lot."

Kurt shrugged. "It's hardly a real wedding without an embarrassing uncle … or cousin." He took a swig of the glass and prompted Blaine to follow him a bit further away.

"He's also known to be somewhat of a homophobe," Blaine continued, "So I'm not sure what's in store for us. Just remember to be polite and brush it off your shoulders, Kurt. Can you promise me that?"

Kurt frowned. "I'm not going to keep my mouth shut if he insults us, Blaine; you know that."

"I know," Blaine sighed and let his hand run soothingly down Kurt's back. "Let's just hope he doesn't say anything then."

Kurt suddenly grabbed Blaine's arm as he followed one particular guest with his eyes. "Who's the lady with the obnoxiously big hat?" he asked.

Blaine chuckled. He didn't even have to look. "That's Katie's Aunt Agatha. I've met her once before and apparently she has a hat fetish."

Kurt turned away from the lady again. "I am telling you, a peacock suffered a horrible, horrible death in order to provide feathers enough for a disaster like that."

"Kurt, you're such a drama queen," Blaine added amused as he found the feathered hat in the crowd.

"But look at it, seriously. I feel bad on behalf of all peacocks in the entire world. Nobody should suffer from bad fashion," Kurt said in a matter-of-factly voice. "But … on the upside with an artistic name as Aunt Agatha, I'm sure I could write an entire musical about her."

Blaine bit his bottom lip hard now. Kurt seemed to be determined to send him into a giggle attack and oh my god he was right. Aunt Agatha  _was_  a character of her own. "Oh shit," he suddenly mumbled.

"What?" Kurt asked.

"I accidentally made eye contact with her and then she waved. I think she is heading our way," Blaine explained.

"Blaaine, you're not supposed to look them in the eyes. That's when they know you're vulnerable," Kurt gasped frantically. "Are we supposed to hug her?"

Blaine chuckled. He didn't know for how much longer he could stand this. "Of course we have to hug her, honey."

"Can't we just shake hands?"

"All aunts are huggers, you know that, Kurt."

The big feathered lady was closing in on them, waving on her way as she tackled most obstacles on her way.

"Yes, all aunts are huggers but they are also wet cheek kissers. It comes with the title - it's part of their job description," Kurt pointed out.

Blaine was never given the time to answer before the aunt stood in front of him with a beaming smile.

"Ooooh, you must be Blaine," she said and clasped her hands together in eily excitement. Her large flowered big dress revealed a little too much cleavage as her breasts wobbled between her arms.

"That I am, that I am," Blaine said, hardly daring to breath from suppressed laughter. This was too much to bear all at once.

"Awww, you look so pretty," she squealed and patted him on his cheek. "You Anderson brothers are so handsome, and I'm beyond thrilled that Katie is marrying into such a fine looking family," she confided over the rim of her pointy green glasses. "That marriage will produce some very beautiful children, mark my words, young man. And you know what they say; the world is wide open for the young and the beautiful."

"Well, I'm happy that Cooper can provide a set of beautiful genes," Blaine heard himself say, completely aware that Kurt was choking next to him. "I'm so … happy to meet you," he continued with his triangular eyebrow pressed all the way up to his hairline.

Aunt Agatha tilted her head. "Oh, me too, Blaine, me too. I'm sure we'll see  _so_  much more of each other in the future, and I can't  _wait_  to get to know you a lot better. Now let me give you a kiss."

To Blaine's horror the big woman leaned in and all he could feel was breasts, that still hadn't stopped wobbling, being pressed against him. He quickly managed to turn his cheek to Aunt Agatha's ruby red smeared lips, preventing a complete catastrophe. For a second the big hat shadowed his entire world and then a wet kiss was delivered. Kurt was fighting the feathers next to him with a snort. But he could laugh all his wanted, Blaine though, because he was next.

And as expected Kurt received the same treatment from the thrilled aunty, who went out of her way to tell him how very fine she was with homosexuality and if they ever needed a surrogate mother, one of her closest friends daughter, Jane, would be absolutely  _happy_  to help them out. Jane had a wonderful personality and a solid bone structure so they could even use her as an egg donor.

Blaine couldn't keep it together for much longer if his life had depended on it and the minute Aunt Agatha's stream of words stopped in order for her to take a breath, Blaine made an excuse for both of them and dragged Kurt into a small room next to the wardrobe.

Safe away from feathers and wet kisses they broke down in laughter, unable to stop again.

"Oh please, please, baby, we have to write a role based on her," Kurt begged with tears in his eyes, followed by another giggle attack.

"That was the most surreal family encounter I have ever had to endure," Blaine breathed out, when he finally got some control over himself again. "She is without filter."

"... and without a bra in the right size, that's for sure," Kurt added. And with that Blaine broke down once more.

Santana startled them from behind and watched them cross armed and with a firm stare. "If I had a nickle for everytime the two of you should  _get a room_  I'd be a permanent resident in a luxurious "Sea Resort and Spa" by Railay Beach in Thailand, sipping pure liquid happiness from colored drinks with little pink umbrellas in them."

The boys smiled at her through muffled laughs. "If you had endured what we were just put through, you would have needed a moment too," Blaine confessed. "And by the way, you would miss us way too much to immigrate to Thailand."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Why does everybody have to turn into sentimental babblers just because we're at a wedding."

"If you can't handle the romance then maybe you should have brought a date," Kurt said with a smirk "I'm sure Charleen would have come if you had asked her nicely. Besides, it's about time we meet her, don't you think?"

Ally dropped in. "Oh, there you are guys. Do you all want a ride to the hotel? We have a big cab coming in five."

Blaine checked his watch. "I need to go there early anyway. I have to run through my best man speech before dinner, so I'll come."

"Sure," Kurt agreed. "Let's go before Aunt Agatha hunts us down again."

"Oh, didn't I say?" Blaine asked with a puzzled expression and began to fix Kurt's bowtie that had been rumpled a bit in the commotion.

"Say what?"

"You're sitting next to Aunt Agatha at dinner, so you'll have plenty of time to talk to her," Blaine answered and winked before he turned around and followed Santana and Ally.

Kurt dropped his head and started laughing again. "Now wouldn't that be a treat," he joked and joined the rest of them. Then doubt showed in his eyes and he hurried in front of Blaine again. "You're kidding, right?"

"No I'm not," Blaine answered sincerely, "you're sitting next to her. I swear. I wish I could have saved you somehow, but I'm kind of stuck together with my parents and the bride and groom at the wedding party table."

Kurt narrowed in on Blaine's golden honest stare. "I don't believe you," he then stated. "You don't know the first thing about the table plan."

"I saw Cooper and Katie make it, so I know enough," Blaine said. "Not everybody can handle Aunt Agatha but they both agreed that you would be man enough for it." Blaine patted his boyfriend on the arm and sent him an encouraging smile. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

Then he stepped out together with the rest of their friends.

"Blaaine … you can't … this better not be true, Anderson!" Kurt yelled as he hurried after them.

Kurt kept complaining all the way in the cab. And when they arrived to the hotel where the wedding party was held he still begged Blaine to tell the truth. The moment they stepped into their hotel room, he blocked the way for Blaine so he couldn't reach his suitcase with the speech in it. "I'm not going to let you rehearse until you promise me it isn't so. I'm seriously not going to survive!"

Blaine laughed and pulled his boyfriend in for a kiss. Kurt did his best not to give in, but when Blaine's hands skimmed up and down his back underneath the jacket he gave up and kissed back with a happy sigh.

"Of course you're not sitting next to aunty. You belong next to me, you silly boy," Blaine whispered against Kurt's lips.

Kurt's shoulders relaxed. "I knew that. I knew that all along. Just don't ever scare me like that again."

"I promise."

"You're crossing your fingers behind my back, right?"

"Yes, I am," Blaine chuckled.

Kurt tangled his fingers in Blaine's black hair. "What to do with you. What to do with you."

"First you kiss me and then you help me with my speech."

"Just kiss you?"

"We'll see about that."

 


	2. To My Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on I will do a bit of meta'ing at the end of each chapter. Then it's easy to skip if you just want the story.
> 
> Here comes the second part of the wedding ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

Even though the best man's speech was rehearsed and Blaine knew what he wanted to say, he was a nervous wreck, sitting there at the wedding party table. They had shared a lot of things together, he and Cooper, but despite the close friendship they had developed the past few years a part of their memory was still connected to a difficult childhood. They had never lost a mother, like Kurt and Katie had, but the loss of feeling unconditionally loved by their dad as they grew up, had been just as real. And for better or worse that was a part of their bond too and one of the reasons why Cooper  _got_ him on so many levels. That's why Cooper mattered so much now and that's why Blaine wanted the speech to be perfect.

Kurt sensed his mental absence and squeezed Blaine's hand under the table as the merry talk continued around them. "You'll be alright," he said with a soft smile. "Think of this as one of your concerts. The moment you get up in front of everybody you'll forget why you were so nervous."

Blaine knew he was right, but somehow this felt different. "I just want it to be perfect," he answered.

"And what is perfect?" Kurt asked curious.

Blaine thought about it. "Perfect is that I don't stumble over my words, that people laugh at my jokes and … that Cooper understands how much he means to me."

"In that case I'm sure you will succeed," Kurt said convincingly. "Your jokes are funny and you have written a beautiful speech. As for the rest, all the things you can't say out loud, I promise you that Cooper knows."

Blaine squinted and tilted his head, fully aware that he could get Kurt to do anything for him when he pulled that trick. "Do you promise you'll laugh?"

"I swear that I will laugh," Kurt said solemnly.

"And not just a silent laughter inside?"

"I'll laugh as loud as you want me to."

"Well not embarrassing loud, right?"

"I'll keep it to a medium."

"Medium is good."

"Blaine ... you're procrastinating."

He was so busted. "Yes I am … okay … I'm going to do this." Blaine took a deep breath and got up, and as he clanged on the crystal glass with his knife the "performer" stepped out. The golden stare calmed down and a relaxed smile lingered on his lips.

Forks and knifes silenced around the tables and eyes turned to Blaine in anticipation.

"Dear family and friends," he set off. "As best man it's such an honor for me to stand here today to celebrate two people that are not only my closest family, but also some of my closest friends. There is a Gaelic proverb saying: _Choose your husband as you wish your children to be."_  Blaine waited a beat before a smirk broke through. "Katie, are you sure you want to see this through?"

People started laughing around them and Katie kissed a blushing Cooper with a chuckle.

"You see, Cooper's kids will be loud and at times obnoxious. They will point their fingers at you when business is serious and shout to be intense. They will rehearse different accents while dining at restaurants, embarrassing whoever is with them. They will give the most terrible career advice and not follow them themselves. But … on the upside they will have very blue eyes and a smile that can melt the North pole."

Cooper threw his hands to side. "I'm sorry, but he's actually right," he confessed beaming.

"Katie, consider yourself warned," Blaine added with a wink.

"I'll take him anyway," Katie stated happy.

When everything had calmed down again Blaine captivated the attention for the next part of his speech.

"Coops, 5 years ago I would never have imagined that you and I would become as close as we are today. You were this distant older brother that didn't have a clue about my problems as a teenager. Later I realized that you understood so much more than I ever gave you credit for at the time. I think you've always been looking out for me, even when I wasn't aware."

Cooper's blue eyes were locked on Blaine now and his soft smile made Blaine's throat tightened as he continued. "But it wasn't until my last two years in college that we suddenly started seeing more of each other. You would come to Chicago out of nowhere, just to hang out with me and make sure I was okay.

The year we shared in your apartment here in New York proved once and for all how much you had my back and how well you knew me after all. At a time with confusion and lost love, you pulled me through and made sure that I heard what my heart was screaming from the roof tops. I could not have asked for a more supportive brother. I love you and … I'll always be there for you," Blaine finished with a broken voice.

Cooper spontaneously got up and the brothers met in a tight hug. "I love you too, baby brother," he whispered into Blaine's ear. Blaine swiped a tear away when they let go of each other again, embarrassed about being so emotional. "I have things to say to Katie too, so I'm not sitting down," he said to all the wedding guests and dried one more tear away with an exaggerated motion. "Give the guy a mic and he'll never know when to quit, right?"

Blaine heard Kurt's soft chuckle next to him. He was there; just as he had promised. Reassured like that Blaine was ready to go on and he turned to his sister in law.

"Katie, welcome to our family. I know it's official today but it feels like you've been a part of our family for a long time. You are smart, and you are wise, and together with Kurt you have turned out to be everything the Anderson family needed to be complete."

Katie gave Blaine an adoring smile in return.

"We've had many hearts-to-hearts by the kitchen counter, insomniac and philosophical, wondering about life and death, love and insecurity. And I have appreciated every minute of it. But there is one thing I value about you more than anything; you make my brother happy. More happy than I have ever seen him before. And for that I will always love you."

Katie's expression softened by his words and with tears in her eyes she blew him a kiss.

"I remember the first time I saw you. Cooper had persuaded you and another co-worker to come to a concert with me and my band. And I kept wondering if it was you or your girlfriend Cooper was falling for. Kurt later told me that it was definitely the dark haired girl. It took him quite some time to ask you out on a proper date, which was so unlike Cooper. When it came to girls he never wasted time - let me put it like that. But he was terrified that you might turn him down and that's when I realized that you were something special."

Blaine reached down for his glass and prompted everybody to do the same.

"Cooper and Katie - I believe in love and I believe in you. Let's make a toast for the happy couple."

* * *

After the best man's speech it was easy for Blaine to enjoy the rest of the evening. Most of their New York friends were there. Cooper had connected with a lot of them during the crazy days of "A Song For Cordelia" and as a group they kept growing into each others lives. It was Ally and Fred, Megan and Matt; Josh, who had brought a date none of them had ever seen, and Santana. Rachel and Mark had been invited too, but Rachel had declined with an excuse none of them could remember or make sense of right now. Kurt suspected something was up with her but they hadn't talked for awhile, so maybe she was just stressed out. He made a mental note to call her one of these days.

Everybody was light hearted and enjoyed the party, dancing, talking and teasing each other. Especially Josh's date was a subject for discussion when she wasn't around. So far they had learned that her name was Michelle and that she worked as a model. Besides that she hadn't said a word to anyone, except Josh, and even that was kept to a minimum. Her attitude told the rest of the story though. She was a sulking, starving girl, clearly indicating she was too cool to be there. But Josh was on cloud nine and treated her like a princess. He clearly felt he had hit jackpot and it wasn't their job to tell him otherwise. But Megan had a hard time keeping quiet. Josh was like a little brother to all of them and she had always kept an eye out for him.

"What do you guys talk about?" she asked Josh with a worried frown in her forehead when Michelle had excused herself to got to the ladies room.

Josh just put his arm around Megan's shoulder and hugged her. And given the fact that the kid was at the end of a growth spurt and was at least 5 inches taller than her, he looked more like an older brother instead of the eager teenager that had joined the band a year and a half ago.

"We don't talk, Meg," he said with a smug face, "we kiss."

The entire group roared with laughed and Santana gave Josh a high five, clearly impressed. With an eye roll Megan let it go and as Matt so cleverly pointed out, to big amusement for them all,  _Michelle was a model and Josh was a musician. What could possibly go wrong?_

Later the band entered the stage and performed for half an hour. Kurt joined them after a couple of songs and together with Blaine he delivered a catchy rendition of "Help" by The Beatles. Skillfully they twisted it into a mockingly impression of Cooper's helplessness when Katie wasn't around. Then they sang Mrs. Robinson for Katie, but changed the words to Dear Mrs. Anderson. That one brought the house down and was a huge success.

It was magical to perform together again, something they didn't do that often, except for karaoke nights, which didn't really count.

When the bouquet was tossed and caught by a very reluctant Ally, who had tried to avoid catching it with all means, the newlyweds said goodbye and took off. They had booked a hotel in New York for the night and were catching a plane to Tahiti the next morning.

As the party continued Blaine sat down with his parents for awhile.

"You have done an amazing job today," his dad said as the three of them found some privacy at one of the smaller tables. "You have given Cooper a perfect wedding.

"Thank you, but I didn't do that by myself," Blaine added quickly. "Kurt and Ally have worked just as hard.

"We know," his mother said with sparkles in her eyes. "And we will make sure to thank them as well, but right now it's your part we're talking about."

The compliment found it's way to Blaine's heart, but sometimes his relationship with his parents still felt like walking on a newly frozen lake. You're told the ice will hold, but every step is still taken with care. His mother seemed to pick up the small insecurities and when his dad got caught up in a conversation with one of Katie's uncles, Rebecca moved closer to her son.

"You know, everytime I see you and Kurt together I can't help feeling happy and proud. I see how perfect you are for each other," she said and put her hand on his arm. "And I want you to know that we will give you the same beautiful wedding if you ever decide to marry Kurt."

Blaine looked at her in amazement. "I didn't know you guys had ever considered that," he said, truly moved by her words.

"Of course we have. We've talked about it quite some time. Your dad has a savings account for big events in his sons lives," she said and chuckled. "And if you don't want to get married you and Kurt are free to spend the money otherwise. They are yours no matter what."

Blaine's voice grew thick. "Thanks mom," he said. Then he bit his lip and looked down at his hands. "But I do want to marry him. There's nothing I want more, actually."

"I understand that Blaine. He is an amazing guy."

Blaine singled Kurt out on the dance floor. Of all people, he was dancing with Santana. They were clearly having a good time, inventing stupid moves and going into full disco mode.

Blaine dropped his head and laughed.

His mother looked puzzled at first but then she turned around to see the cause of his amusement. She immediately caught a glimpse of Kurt, doing a hilarious imitation of John Travolta with rolling sensual hips.

Rebecca giggled and side eyed her son. "As I said, he is a keeper."

"I know," Blaine said with a huge smile. "He is a keeper and … he's a bit tipsy by now."

Rebecca nodded in agreement. Then she put her hand on her son's cheek before she pulled him in for a hug. "I love you, Blaine," she said and rubbed his back.

"I love you too, mom," he said. And he meant it with all of his heart.

When she let go of him again her eyes were teary. "You better go dance with that amazing boyfriend of yours," she said and winked.

"I will," Blaine said.

And as on cue the DJ put on a much slower song. Blaine saw the shift in Kurt's body language immediately. He straightened up and the bluish eyes scouted the room. Blaine pocketed his hands and strolled casually nearer Kurt and when he was finally spotted a sweet and secretive smile appeared on Kurt's face.

"Hey gorgeous, can I have this dance?" Blaine asked when they were standing face to face, eyes locked.

Kurt melted into Blaine's arms. "I will always dance with you," he answered with an adoring expression on his face. Then his mouth found Blaine's ear and through a huff of warm breath he whispered: "I think I'm a little drunk."

Blaine chuckled. "I think you're right but you're also ridiculously cute."

"You think?" Kurt asked with a triumphant smile.

"Mnn."

"I think you are really, really cute too. And you smell good. You always smell good."

"Thank you, Kurt."

Their bodies found their way into each other, moving seductively and reacting to the familiarity. Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's hair with a happy sigh. "You have been so amazing today," he said, "and I have been crazily proud of you. Best looking boyfriend, best man, best speech ever and the sweetest brother for Cooper. I just … you are reeeally good at weddings."

Blaine's heart skipped a beat as his mother's words still echoed inside of him. "Kurt?"

"Mnn."

"Do you ever think about … you know, us getting married?"

Kurt's hands continued their way on Blaine's body, subtle, but still suggestive. "Are you proposing to me, Blaine?" he asked with tilted head and sparkling eyes.

"Noooo," Blaine answered with a shy smile and lingered. "When I propose, you will notice. I promise."

Kurt put their foreheads together, desperately trying to hide a huge smile. "Good to know. And to answer your question, yes I do think about it from time to time. How about you?"

"I … um, I think about it a lot. I just wasn't sure if you wanted to, after … everything with Benjamin. That maybe you'd feel it was awkward or something, because you've already been there, you know. I mean not getting married, but being engaged and being proposed to."

"Oh, you silly, sweet boy," Kurt mumbled with a rough voice. "Don't you see that I have never really been there when it comes down to it. Yes, I have been engaged, but I've never experienced any of that with someone I was dying to spent the rest of my life with; someone I love so much that I could shout "I do" from the rooftops."

They kept swaying together in perfect unison, following the lazy beat of the music. "I would have waited for you forever, you know," Kurt continued. "If you had left New York a year ago and never looked back, I would have fought for you and chased you down just to tell you how much I love you. So how can this not be a first for me too, when I've never felt for anyone the way I feel about you?"

Blaine swallowed hard. "You're amazing, Kurt."

Kurt found his lips before he could say anything more and they started kissing on the dance floor.

"Don't you think people will be bothered by this," Blaine asked out of breath, but still not wanting to let go of Kurt's mouth.

"It's a wedding, Blaine, and I need to kiss you. They will just have to close their eyes."

"What about cousin Miles?"

Kurt giggled. "Coops asked Aunt Agatha to watch over Miles and I dare say she took the task  **very**  seriously. I don't think he will be bothering anybody tonight."

"Smart move," Blaine said impressed. He grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the waiters serving on the dance floor. He took a sip, still holding Kurt close and put the glass to his mouth as well. Then they kissed in champagne, danced, flirted and laughed at their own silly jokes that somehow became so much funnier as the golden liquor disappeared between the two of them.

"I want you so bad," Kurt suddenly whispered and pressed up against Blaine's body.

Blaine felt the arousal stir. "You do? Well maybe we should just leave now and sneak up to our room."

Kurt exhaled through a shaky breath. "There is just one problem."

"What's that?"

"I can't leave now because I have a boner of the size of the Eiffel tower and it makes my pants look really weird," Kurt confessed proudly.

Blaine giggled. "Oh God, you're drunk baby." Then he removed his body enough to look at the bulge in Kurt's pants. "You look gorgeous. But um, yes, that does reveal a bit too much."

"You see my problem?" Kurt asked.

"I could get your jacket, then you can hide behind that."

"And what am I supposed to do while you get my jacket. Stand here and dance against the wall, that would be even more suspicious."

"Okay, okay, maybe you can walk really close behind me and then nobody will notice," Blaine suggested.

"Nope, not gonna work."

"Why not?"

"Just close your eyes and imagine the scenario for a second."

Blaine laughed for real this time as images popped up in his head and he had to lean against Kurt's shoulder. "You are priceless tonight, baby."

Kurt raised his brows. "You can laugh all you want, but I'm still calling Houston cause we have a problem!"

Blaine withdrew enough for their lower bodies not to touch anymore and Kurt hissed in disappointment. "Easy now," Blaine said and bit his lip. "I have an idea. You may not like it, but I think it's bullet proof."

"Okay, okay, just hurry up."

"You have to think about a mood killer."

"And what might that be?" Kurt asked dry.

Blaine smirked. "What about Aunt Agatha. I believe that would do the trick."

"You have GOT to be kidding, Blaine!"

"No, but serious. Think about her fashion disaster of a hat, her big …. boobs and her very wet aunty kiss."

Kurt dropped his head backwards. "Oh my god, yep, we can leave now."

Blaine sent him a triumphant expression. "You see. I knew it would work!"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Blaine and take me upstairs. I need to bleach my brain from the image you just put in there!"

* * *

They started kissing outside the hotel room again as Kurt searched frantically for the key card in the inner pocket of his jacket that he was holding behind Blaine's back. But it was hard to concentrate with Blaine's warm mouth on his, and Blaine's hands constantly seeking out the sensitive spots on his body.

It felt incredible.

"Hurry up with the key," Blaine whispered with a rough voice, and inhaled the scent of Kurt from his neck, pressing him lightly against the door.

"It's not that easy when you're all over me," Kurt answered and dug in for another kiss, finally feeling the hard edge of the card in his hand. "Here, I've got it, I've got it. We'll be fine," he panted triumphantly. Then he turned in Blaine's arms and slid the card into the lock.

They tumbled into the room with a muffled giggle not bothered to turn on the light. And as the door closed behind them they were left in pitch dark. It was a turn on to listen and feel without being able to see at first. Kurt unbuttoned Blaine's dress shirt with shaking impatient hands. He wanted to touch and taste this amazing man like nothing else in the world existed.

But the moment Blaine went in for Kurt's exposed neck and sucked eagerly on every spot he could reach, Kurt couldn't remember what he was doing. He dropped his head backwards and swayed for a while before he let himself be picked up by Blaine's strong arms and carried over to the bed. The darkness around them wasn't dark anymore as their eyes had gotten used to it and sitting on the edge of the bed Kurt locked eyes with his lover who was slowly undressing him. The coolness of the air felt refreshing on Kurt's naked chest when Blaine had removed everything from his upper body. He leaned back with his arms supporting his weight behind him, feeling Blaine's burning eyes all over him.

"You're so beautiful," Blaine whispered and straddled Kurt, painfully slow, until their erections grinded, "and you feels so good to me, always."

Kurt thrust his hip forward and felt how his arms began to shake in order to keep himself in position. Blaine reached down to cup him and offer him the friction he needed. Kurt moaned into Blaine's mouth when the warm hand worked through the layers, slipped into his pants and pressed against the length of his cock. He desperately thrust up one more time.

"We have to get out of these clothes," Blaine said with a hiss. "I really, really need to feel you."

Kurt just nodded with lips prickling after being kissed red and warm and let himself fall down into the mattress. With a swift movement Blaine removed his own dress shirt and undershirt before he continued on Kurt's pants until Kurt was laying there naked and exposed. He knew Blaine adored him and loved to see him like this and it was hard to hide that Kurt enjoyed being looked at just as much. This moment of anticipation before you climb the heights together, unsure of what will happen, but feeling beyond safe, was the biggest turn on for Kurt.

His stomach coiled in anticipation as Blaine stepped out of his pants and stood equally naked in the soft darkness. Kurt was still amazed by the beauty in every outline of muscles and the strong maleness Blaine had always radiated.

Kurt pulled himself further up in the bed. "Come here," he whispered and reached out for Blaine, desperate to touch everything he saw. "Let me feel you."

Blaine climbed on top of him, hovering over Kurt before he let their bodies touch in full length. A sigh of contentment along with a muffled whimper escaped them both. Kurt wrapped his legs around the strong body and let his tongue follow the stubbled jaw line. Shoulders, strong and flexed, vibrated under the tips of his fingers and made him dig his nails lightly into the warm skin. Blaine pushed forward and grinded their erections against each other and with his elbows on each side of Kurt's head he kissed him, passionately and deep. He wanted to feel Kurt inside of him, but most of all he wanted to take his time.

* * *

Kurt registered the muffled buzz from his cell phone well hidden somewhere as his foggy brain tried to connect the dots. He felt slightly hung over but also warm and well taken care of at the same time. Images from the previous night fluttered at the corner of his mind. The sensation of sliding into Blaine and being consumed completely physically and emotionally was still making his body tingle. He opened his eyelids enough to take a look at Blaine lying next to him. His hair was ruffled and he had one arm over his head and the other arm resting at the side of his body. Kurt sneaked his hand out from underneath the duvet. He found Blaine's fingers and intertwined them into his. Blaine squeezed lightly, still heavily asleep and Kurt closed his eyes, content with the connection between them.

A few seconds later Blaine's phone started to ring, loud and annoying. Kurt always mocked him for needing it to be on full volume. He had claimed that Blaine's hearing was going down hill. But Blaine had defended himself, explaining that he needed it to be loud for band morning it felt louder than usual though and Kurt seeked shelter underneath his pillow. Blaine barely moved. What was up with people anyway? It was Sunday morning for gods sake!

The second time Blaine's phone went off, Kurt shook him. "Blaine, it's your phone. You either have to answer it or strangle it."

"It'll stop again," Blaine mumbled and turned around on his stomach.

But it didn't, really.

The fourth time Kurt rolled on top of Blaine and reached out for the obnoxious phone on the bed stand. "Woah," Blaine said underneath his pillow. "This feels good."

"Yeah, I know how to get a reaction from you if I really want to," Kurt said dry.

Blaine pushed lightly up against Kurt's crotch.

"One thing at a time, tiger," Kurt mumbled, but not objective to the idea at all. "This phone has to be killed first and it sounds like somebody wants to talk to you really bad."

"Then you can return the call and tell whatever moron calling on a Sunday morning that I'm busy here underneath my boyfriend."

"Nice, Blaine. I'm not your secretary … I mean unless you want me to be … you know," Kurt said.

Blaine hummed. "So many opportunities."

Kurt planted a wet kiss on Blaine's warm neck, trying not to smile too widely. Then with a swipe of his thumb he unlocked the display on Blaine's phone. The sight caused immediate furrows over his eyes. Four missed calls from Mercedes.

He rolled down from Blaine, who complained instantly. Something wasn't right. It was not that Mercedes and Blaine didn't have contact once in awhile, but it mainly happened through Kurt, so it was a bit weird that she had called Blaine that many times.

"Hey where are you going?" Blaine asked without moving yet.

"I'll have to track down my own phone," Kurt mumbled as he started to search through his clothes, hanging over an armchair next to the mirror.

"Who was on the phone?" Blaine asked and rubbed his puffed eyes with the heel of his hands. "Is everything allright?"

"I don't know," Kurt said, finally reaching what he was looking for. "Mercedes has tried to get a hold on you and I know my phone was buzzing before."

Blaine ruffled his hair. "Well that IS weird." He sat up in the bed.

Kurt frowned as he reviewed all the missed calls on his phone. Mercedes had practically called non-stop for the last half an hour. It had to be urgent. He climbed back into bed and settled down next to Blaine before he called back.

Mercedes picked up immediately "Kurt, I'm so glad to hear from you," she burst out. She sounded broken and her voice was thick as if she had been crying.

Kurt's breath got stuck in his chest. Something was terribly wrong. "Are you okay, honey?" he asked worried. "What has happened?"

"No, I'm not okay." She started to cry through shaky breaths. "But this is not about me, it's about Sam." ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you again on Wednesday and feel free to review :)
> 
> Meta:
> 
> It has been important for me in this story to give a little glimpse of Blaine's relationship with his parents. Even though Blaine and his dad "found" each other a while ago, broken relationships takes time to mend and it requires a lot to leave former habits behind. But they move forward all the time. Blaine's mother hasn't been given a face or a name before, but I felt it was about time. Her "crime" in the broken relationship between her husband and her sons have been her silence. Now she speaks up and can do so because her relationship with her husband has changed too.
> 
> Kurt and Blaine are very grounded in their relationship by now. They rest in each other and trust each other. This story will not be about breaking up or fighting all the time. But it will not be fluff all the way through either. I want them to be a normal couple who keep learning from each other and growing along the way. I also want them to have close friendships outside their own little bubble and that's why Sam and Mercedes will play an important part in the development of the story.
> 
> I've known for a very long time that this story would have a plot about Sam. I know not everybody is crazy about the Blam-friendship, but I try to describe it the way I think it should have been and I hope those of you who are hesitant will give this particular friendship one more chance.
> 
> Feel free to comment on the meta as well as the story itself. I love to dig a bit deeper into (my) characters and discuss different angles.
> 
> Melissa


	3. Brother Of Another Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now this story takes off :)

Kurt sat on the bed in the hotel room with the phone pressed against his ear. "What is happening with Sam?" he asked. The question caused Blaine to jerk up next to him with a questioning look on his face.

"I don't even know how to tell you this," Mercedes snuffled. "I'm a mess but I don't know who else to turn to."

"Hang on, Cedes," Kurt said and captured Blaine's stare. "I'm gonna put you on speaker, Blaine is here too."

Soon Mercedes voice filled the room. "Thank god you're there, Blaine," she said tired. "You guys have been so tough to get a hold of." Mild accusations snuck into her tone of voice.

Blaine moved closer to Kurt and the phone. "Hi, Cedes, we're sorry about that. Cooper got married last night so we were kind of sleeping in," he explained apologetically.

"Oh, that's right. Sorry guys, I completely forgot about that," she said quietly. "Hope your brother had a great wedding."

"We can tell you all about that later," Blaine said impatiently. "Just promise me that Sam is okay."

Both boys looked at the phone without blinking, their minds raising at this point.

"Sam got beaten up by a couple of bad guys last night and now he's in the hospital," Mercedes said and started to cry again.

"Oh my gosh," Kurt said. "That's terrible. Who would do such a thing to him?"

"What happened?" Blaine interrupted anxiously "He is going to be alright, isn't he?"

"Yes, he'll be alright … eventually," Mercedes trailed off. "They broke a couple of his ribs and crushed his right foot. Then he's taken a lot of blows to the face, but nothing's broken there. He's just really doctors had to do surgery on his foot last night and he'll be on crutches for weeks ahead."

"Have you spoken to him?" Blaine asked and rubbed the nape of his neck. Kurt knew this would effect him severely no matter what had happened.

"No, I haven't spoken to him," Mercedes answered. "I have visited him, and I have held his hand. But he was not fully awake and the doctors asked for a very short visit."

"Were you there when it happened?" Kurt asked, not sure if he could stomach the ordeal Mercedes would have had to go through if she had witnessed the assault.

"No, then I would have fought for him and probably been hospitalized as well," she responded fiercely. "Eyewitnesses said that three guys showed up out of nowhere and ganged up on him. And Sam was all alone. Two of them held him down and the third beat him up. Some big dude, double Sam's size. He was never given a chance."

Blaine shook his head. "I cannot believe this ... I just can't." He pulled his knees up to his chest like he was hugging himself. "Sam has never harmed anyone," he mumbled terrified.

"His mom called me in the middle of the night and told me she was heading for LA," Mercedes continued. "And then she asked me to go to the hospital in case he woke up before she arrived. She didn't want him to wake up without a familiar face. She sounded so broken when she called, Kurt, and she kept repeating that I should stay with him. I think she was in some kind ofshock."

"Is she with him now?" Kurt asked and side eyed Blaine.

"Yes she's here," Mercedes confirmed. "I'm calling from the hospital."

"What about his dad and his siblings?" Kurt asked.

Mercedes sighed. "His dad can't cope at all. He cries all the time. Sam's siblings had to stay with him. He suffers from depression and can't help his wife with anything. She's all alone in this. I swear, the Evans' don't need more on their plate. It's so unfair."

"This is just terrible on all kind of levels," Kurt claimed with a hurting heart.

Blaine rubbed his temples next to him and stared into the room. Kurt didn't know what was going on in his head, but they needed to figure this out together.

"Hang on Cedes." Kurt covered the phone with his hand and turned to Blaine. "Baby, we're are going to help Sam and he'll be alright. You have to be strong for him and we'll figure out how to get to LA. I promise you."

Blaine nodded and ran a hand through his messy curls. "I know, I know. I just don't get it. He's such a good guy, Kurt."

"I couldn't agree more and that's why we will have to figure out what happened, okay?"

Blaine nodded again. He dried a tear away with an annoyed movement and removed Kurt's hand from the phone. "I'm sorry Cedes, we're back," he said and cleared his throat. "Do you know who did this? Was it a random attack or did he know these monsters?"

The question stayed in the room for a moment before Mercedes answered. "The police have a theory from what they know about the area … and from what people have told them. Unfortunately very few are willing to speak to the police at all."

"And what is their theory?" Blaine prompted when Mercedes seemed to hesitate.

"You're not going to like this .. but … it may have been some guys he owed money. And the assault was supposedly to teach him a lesson because he hadn't been able to pay up."

Kurt and Blaine got quiet, trying to comprehend what they were told. It seemed to be such an unexpected thing for Sam to do.

"I don't understand what you're saying at all!" Blaine finally said in disbelief. "Why would Sam ever get involved with guys like that? If he needed money I would gladly have lent him some."

"I know this is hard to get all at once, Blaine, but Sam has been in a really dark place for quite awhile now. I have tried to reach out to him more times than I can count, but he kept insisting that he was alright and that I should stop worrying about him. His mother did enough of that already."

"Tell us everything you know, Mercedes," Blaine begged, "even the things Sam doesn't want us to know. I need to understand what is going on here. This is beyond anything I'd ever imagine Sam do."

"When did you talk to Sam the last time?" Mercedes asked.

Kurt knew immediately that this would hit a sore spot with Blaine.

"God, I don't know," Blaine wavered. "I'm afraid it's a couple of months ago. I've been so busy. I've kept telling myself that I should keep in touch, but whenever I called, his machine picked up and he hasn't returned my calls for a long time. Damn it! I should have known something was wrong."

"Even IF you had realized before, he wouldn't have let you come near him, Blaine," Mercedes stated. "He has been pushing everybody away."

"Even you?" Blaine asked puzzled.

"Especially me I'm afraid?"

"You know that he's in love you, right?" Kurt asked carefully.

"Yes, I know, and I love him too, more than anything." She started to cry again, and all Kurt could think of was how badly he wanted to be right next to her and hug her. "But Sam was very determined that he wouldn't start dating me until he had a job and was earning some money again," Mercedes continued. "He wanted to treat me right. And no matter how many times I told him that even a hot-dog date was all I dreamed about, he refused to budge on the matter."

"But didn't he get a steady job?" Blaine asked. "He told me he was looking forward to turn his bad luck around and he seemed sincerely happy about it."

"Did he ever tell what kind of job though?" Mercedes asked gently.

"No ... not in so many words. He said he would tell me all about it next time he came to New York. But he never got that far."

A terrible hunch reached Kurt, but before he could signal anything to Blaine, Mercedes confirmed what he was afraid of hearing.

"He started stripping again, Blaine."

"Oh god, no."

"Yes. He didn't want me to know about it, but Puck told me and even though I refused to believe it at first, it all made sense. The kind of money he was suddenly making surely fit the idea and when I confronted him about it he became very defensive. From that point he started to avoid me until he didn't return my calls at all."

"But if he was making good money, how come he tried to borrow some anyway?" Kurt asked. Some things didn't seem to fit the picture.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Mercedes admitted reluctantly. "He must have run into some unexpected problems. Maybe he started drinking ... or doing something worse. I don't know … I honestly don't know."

A heavy silence settled between the three of them. Despite the miles that separated them their hearts reached out to each other.

"Mercedes, I'm coming to LA," Blaine stated as he caught Kurt's eyes. "There is no way you're going to fight this battle on your own. I owe Sam too much; we all do, one way or another."

"I'll come too," Kurt added, determined not to let Blaine down. He was starting rehearsals tomorrow at the "Ensemble Theater" who had picked up Cordelia, but it was only readings and he couldn't imagine it would be a problem to get a few days off. He  _did_  know the part really well after all. Blaine wouldn't be directly involved in the production because the band took up so much of his time.

The relief was audible in her voice. "Thank you guys," she stuttered. "Thank you so much. What would I do without you?"

"Nothing," Kurt replied softly. "Nobody is supposed to face life on their own, not you and not Sam. And Blaine is right, we all owe him so much. He has been there for us more times than we can count."

When the guys hung up again they took a moment together to process the conversation and make a plan. Blaine got on the computer to search for airline tickets to LA and then he texted Matt to figure out a new schedule for band rehearsals to allow him at least three days together with Sam.

From the hallway he heard Kurt's muffled conversation with the director from The Ensemble Theater and as Kurt's voice rose and became more strained, Blaine guessed that getting time off wouldn't be as easy as they had hoped. It would never have been a problem with Michael, but they didn't know this director and Kurt had only met him once.

Blaine was just one click away from buying tickets when Kurt burst through the door with a gruff expression on his face. "What an idiot, that Dubrovski. How am I supposed to work with a moron like that for four months!"

Blaine removed his hand from the confirm button. "I take it that you can't come," he said.

Kurt paced the floor. "I asked nicely, I honestly did and the first week is mainly readings, which means anyone could read my part. And still he has the audacity to call me a diva for asking for three days off, reminding me that I will not receive any special treatment just because I wrote the goddamn play."

"Wow, what a great way to connect," Blaine said confused. "Does he have some sort of issue with you? Didn't you talk with him when you were signed?"

"He barely said anything at the time being," Kurt explained. "I was interviewed by the CEO of the theater instead, Stevenson. Dubrovski was there, but we just said hello to each other."

"What do you know about him?" Blaine asked and reduced his search to a single ticket with a heavy heart. He really wanted Kurt to be there too, but now he had to face the situation alone.

"I don't know," Kurt said and threw his hands to the side. "He is supposed to be some fancy schmancy Russian director who used to direct something big at the Russian Opera. But if this is any indication of what he's like to work with he can go back to Russia with the first Siberian Express if you ask me."

The anger left Kurt as fast as it had built up when he noticed Blaine's slouching shoulders. He exhaled and sat down next to Blaine. "I'm so sorry, honey. I'm just rambling. I wish I could go."

Blaine nodded. "Me too. I think Mercedes needs you, but maybe Sam needs me more."

Kurt placed Blaine's hand between his palms and caressed him gently. "I agree and you're going to do fine. Just try to get Sam to talk, figure out what happened and what we can do to help him somehow."

"I love you so much, you know that, right?" Blaine said and cupped Kurt's cheek with his other hand.

Kurt leaned into the touch. "I know. I see it in your eyes every day."

Blaine closed the gap between them and kissed his boyfriend softly. The warmth spread between them as they stayed in the kiss. Blaine could have easily made love to Kurt again, right there, if they'd had the time.

"We better pack our stuff now," Kurt whispered, just as reluctant to let go as Blaine. "Then we can call a cab and hurry home. I'll help you get ready to go."

Blaine nodded and licked his lips, still lingering on the taste of their kiss.

Before they left the hotel Blaine hurriedly said goodbye to his parents and enlightened them about the situation. Jamies immediately offered to drive them back to New York and then take Blaine to the airport when he had finished packing. As it would save them all some valuable time Blaine thankfully accepted the offer.

On the way back he and Kurt talked quietly in the back seat of the car.

"I know you feel that you've let Sam down, but you couldn't possibly know that he was in that kind of trouble," Kurt reminded him.

It was hard for Blaine to agree. He couldn't take all blame, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that he had missed some signs along the way either.

"I still should have called him more often or visited him. He came all the way to New York to be with me last year ... and then this happens. I feel like a lousy friend," Blaine tried to explain.

"I know you and Sam have a great friendship, but you're both grown ups and aware of how hard it is to stay in touch once life moves on," Kurt said. "Rachel and I live in the same city and we still have long periods of time where we don't see each other or talk on the phone. But that doesn't change the fact that she would be there for me in a heartbeat if I needed her. And I would do the same thing for her. When Sam came here last year, he came because Cooper called him and told him you were miserable. He didn't come because he knew something was up. He was told. Now you've been told things that Sam probably didn't want you to know in the first place. And you're leaving everything behind to be with him and help him. If that's not being a good friend, I don't know what is."

Blaine watched the New York sky line in the horizon, lost in his own thoughts. "I hope you're right," he sighed. "I hope I'm not too late, that's all."

* * *

Safely seated on an afternoon flight to LA Blaine closed his eyes, not interested in any contact with his fellow passengers. A thousand thoughts were lining up to be processed and organized. He tried to brace himself for the meeting with Sam, but everything tangled into painful knobs in his stomach whenever he attempted to picture Sam, lying in a hospital bed, all bruised and broken.

One thought in particular kept looping deep inside of him. Why had Sam borrowed money from the wrong guys? What had forced him into such a bad call? How could he not have known how dangerous that was? And if he had been confident that he would be able to pay the guys back, what had gone wrong?

Sam wasn't a gambler so  _that_  idea was left to dry pretty quickly. And it was hard to imagine he would ever get involved with drugs. But did Blaine still know him enough to rule anything out? Maybe his family was out of money again? From what Mercedes had told them it didn't sound like Sam's dad could earn a living for an entire family.

Another thing kept nagging him no matter how many times he pushed the worries away. If they had beaten him up he clearly hadn't been able to pay them back. And if he hadn't paid up, wouldn't they come back for him?

Blaine ordered a chilled soda and followed the fluffy shaped clouds below him. He should have pushed harder to get Sam to come to New York a year ago. But if anyone understood the power of love, Blaine did. And he had never questioned Sam's motivation to stay. He would have followed Kurt anywhere if he'd had to himself. So he could hardly blame Sam for doing the same thing for Mercedes.

Does it only take one bad decision to make an entire life crumble? Or was it it more like a line of bad calls all together that could seal a persons destiny. Could Blaine have gone through a similar melt down if he hadn't been so fortunate in life?

What if Cooper hadn't been there for him? What if Kurt had married Benjamin and they'd never gotten back together? What if A Song For Cordelia hadn't been picked up? Where would he have been right now? And what about the band? Was it all just a chain reaction of good luck or had Blaine done anything to deserve what had come to him? Had he done more than Sam?

All the questions started to pile up and twirl like an inner whirlwind and certain answers were nowhere to be found.

He missed Kurt.

They really wasn't used to being apart. Even though they worked together for the main part of the week, Kurt still came to every concert with Sound of Seduction his schedule allowed. And now Blaine couldn't even text him until he hit ground in LA. Blaine didn't consider himself dependent on Kurt, but when he was in a funk like this nobody could drag him out of it as Kurt.

* * *

After six hours, feeling more like ten, Blaine could finally go through LAX. He was tired, but happy to see Mercedes. She felt smaller in his arms somehow.

"I'm so happy to see you," she said with a smile that barely reached her brown eyes.

"I'm really sorry Kurt couldn't come," Blaine apologized. "I know you needed him right now."

She rubbed his arm. "But you're here, Blaine, and if anybody can make a difference with Sam, it's you."

They started to walk back to Mercedes car and immediately picked up on the subject that occupied their minds. This was not a time for small talk.

"I went to see him again this afternoon," Mercedes said as they loaded the luggage into the trunk of her Fiesta.

"Was he awake?" Blaine asked

She nodded. "But … he was also very upset about me being there. He didn't want me to see him like that and he … basically told me to stay away." Tears began to stream down her cheeks and Blaine pulled her in for another hug right there on the parking lot. He held her even tighter when she said the next thing. "He basically doesn't want to see anybody, except his mom."

She let go of him again and pulled a napkin out of her pocket.

"Did you tell him that I would come?" Blaine asked gently.

"No, I chose not to. I think it's better if you just show up tomorrow. It'll be harder for him to turn you down when you've traveled this far. But I don't want you to expect too much, that's all."

A numb feeling flooded through Blaine's body. He was not good at pushing himself into somebodies lives if they didn't want him there. But now he had to. What was that saying Katie had used in her speech to Cooper. Blaine had to think for awhile before it came to him.

_When people build up walls, it's not to keep others out, but to see who cares enough to break them down._

That was it. Sam needed them to break down his walls. He needed friends who wasn't chased away that easily and who had the courage to stay, even when there was nothing left to got into the car next to Mercedes, determined to share this with her later tonight.

Mercedes seemed to have built up a nice life in LA. Blaine knew she mainly earned her living by singing at different smaller events and that her networking among musicians in the industry was growing. But she wasn't closer to a record deal than she had been five years ago and Blaine and Kurt knew that the hard work was taking it's toll on her. It was a city with a few opportunities and a lot of crushed dreams. Talent was just a part of it, too small part of it, the rest was about knowing people, selling a brand and hope for a good agent to drop a little something on your way. She had rented a decent apartment at the outskirts of LA and with a spare bedroom and two bathrooms she had prompted Blaine to stay with her while he was in LA, instead of checking into a hotel.

Her place was organized and neat, decorated with a lot of colors giving the overall design a happy and warm expression. It was very Mercedes and Blaine felt at ease there as he let go of some of the tension that had resided in him since the phone call this morning.

"This is really nice, Cedes," he said and twirled in the living room.

"Thank you. This is kind of my refuge from the "fake" industry world. This is where I can be myself," she said and leaned against the door frame.

"Is it tough, living in LA?"

"Living here - no; working here - yes."

"You know, I tried to get Sam to move to New York a couple of times," Blaine confessed. "He'll always have a place in my band. But he has been very determined about staying here."

"I know." Mercedes blushed. "He is stubborn that way … but he  _should_  have moved, and maybe I should have, too. Then perhaps this mess could have been avoided."

Her eyes got watery again and Blaine's urge to protect her and comfort her kicked right in. He stepped closer and dragged her into a tight hug. It was the only way he knew how to reach her and calm her down. "Don't think like that. I have a masters degree in blaming myself and trust me, it paralyzes all your actions and leaves you frozen inside. So you and I have to make a promise to each other."

"Not to blame ourselves," Mercedes suggested into his chest.

"Yes. So every time one of us go down that road the other one is obliged to stop it. It's the only way we can help Sam."

"I love him so much."

"I know, and he loves you back, trust me, he and I have talked about this," Blaine said.

"Sorry about the tears," she said and let go of him again, heading for the kitchen for another napkin. "They come and go. Sometimes it's the smallest things that start the water works."

Blaine made a quick decision. "Look, why don't you just go lie on the couch and relax a bit and then I'll order some food. Tonight I'm going to treat you and take care of you, and you don't have to worry about a thing."

He escorted her gently to the comfy chaise lounge, fixed her a cushion and tucked a blanket around her. Then he kissed her dark hair. "I love you, lady, and I promise you that everything is going to be alright."

"I love you too, Blaine," she said with a tired sigh before she closed her eyes; tears still hanging in her lashes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think so far and where you think this story could go. ;)
> 
> Meta
> 
> That Sam started to strip again is not really the main issue about the story line I chose. We know from Glee that Sam can be insecure about his own abilities and sometimes fall back to the fact that he is "good looking" It's his insecurities I find interesting and worth writing about.
> 
> When it comes to Samcedes I've always wanted Glee to go a bit further down that road, because there was something special between them. So this will also be a Samcedes story to some extent ;)


	4. Breakind Down The Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you have asked what this story will be about compared to "A Song For Cordelia" and I know I've been keeping it under wraps.
> 
> "One Of The Good Guys" will be more plot driven than the first one and I will focus on two plots. New Direction will reunite in order to help Sam, and together they will uncover what really happened to him.
> 
> The other plot will be centeret around the new director for "Cordelia" - also known as "The Director From Hell."
> 
> Enjoy ;)

The sterile smell of hospital got stuck in Blaine's nose the minute he and Mercedes stepped inside South Valley Community Health Center. It made him hesitate for a split second. He had never been crazy about hospitals. It reminded him of the attack he experienced as a teenager; a memory he didn't appreciate right now to be honest. He was tired to the bones. Despite all good intentions he had failed to get a good nights sleep. And the few hours he did manage to get had been nothing but nightmares about a faceless Sam, screaming in pain as he got beaten up over and over again.

Mercedes led the way through multiple hallways and mechanical doors until they reached the unit where Sam was hospitalized.

A skinny looking woman with a blank expression on her face was standing next to a coffee machine. Her blond hair was graying at the temples and her shoulders were slouching as if she carried the weight of the world on them.

"Hi, Mrs. Evans," Mercedes said and let go of Blaine to hug the woman.

The tired face lit up and Blaine discovered that underneath the marks of endless hours of hardship, Sam's mom looked beautiful.

"Oh, Mercedes, I didn't see you there. Thank you so much for coming today." The two women exchanged a look, saying more than thousand words and suddenly Blaine felt like an intruder.

But then Mrs. Evans noticed him. "Oh, you must be Blaine," she said mildly and reached out a hand .

"I am," he answered and offered a small smile, not sure what to make of himself. "I'm so happy to meet you. I just wish it had been under different circumstances."

She nodded. "Me too, but Sam needs a friend more than ever and he has always talked very highly about you, Blaine. I really appreciate that you took the time to fly all the way out here."

Blaine felt the pressure build from all sides. Somehow a lot of people firmly believed that he would have a magic touch with Sam. But what if he didn't? "Sam's a great guy and I think he needs to hear that," Blaine heard himself say, hiding whatever insecurity he felt.

Mrs. Evans smiled at him and squeezed his arm. "Why don't the two of you grab a cup of coffee and then we can sit down a talk for awhile before you go visit Sam."

Blaine nodded relieved. Coffee would do him good and then maybe he'd even come up with something brilliant to say to Sam.

"How is he today?" Mercedes asked as they all sat down at a small table in an empty television room.

Sam's mom sighed and let her fingers follow the edge of the coffee cup in circles. "He was in a lot of pain last night and he refused to take any pain medication. But his leg was killing him and one of the nurses talked him into taking something anyway. He is more swollen today and he doesn't say much. I have cleared both of you with the staff, and as long as he is stable you're both free to come and visit."

"What about his siblings. Are they coming too?" Blaine asked

Mrs. Evans shook her head. "Stacey's afraid of flying without an adult and Stevie has only had his drivers license for two months. There is no way I'm trusting him with a ride all the way from San Francisco with his sister. I know they want to see their brother really bad. I just don't see how that's possible right now."

Blaine pointed his lips and then narrowed in on Mercedes. "Why don't we ask Puck? I'm sure he would love a road trip, don't you?"

Mercedes put her coffee down and nodded energetic. "What a great idea. I'll call him right away. Both he and Artie are dying to do something." She got up and walked away with the phone pressed to her ear.

"Mrs. Evans," Blaine said nervously as they were left alone. "Is there anything in particular you want me to tell Sam? Or are there any topics I should avoid? I don't really know what he needs the most right now and truth be told I feel so lost in this."

Sam's mom placed her fragile hand on top of his wrist across the coffee table. "He will try to send you away and he will do his best to convince you that he can handle this on his own. But don't believe a word of it. He is very embarrassed about the entire situation …"

"Embarrassed?" Blaine interrupted. "But why? He was the one who got beaten up."

"He's embarrassed that he has put himself and us in such a delicate situation. Anything you can get him to share is progress. The police know very little about the guys that attacked him and more importantly, we don't know how much money he owes those guys; or if they will come back for him. So the more information the better."

Blaine slouched in the chair. "I lost track of him, you know," he said unhappy. "We used to talk a couple of times a week and now we haven't been in touch for about 3 or 4 months. I should have known something wasn't right."

"It wouldn't have made a difference, Blaine. Mercedes knew about it and I knew about it, and he still wouldn't let us help him. But now he has to. It's his only option. We just have to make him realize that."

Mercedes returned with a huge smile on her face. "Both Puck and Artie are up for the drive Mrs Evans, so if you just give them a time and place, they will get your children.

"Really?" Mrs. Evans put a hand to her lips and the strong woman turned teary eyed. "I had no idea so many people cared about my son."

"Are you kidding?" Blaine said with raised eyebrows. "Sam has an entire glee club that cares. We may have split up years ago and we may live all across the country now, but I don't know anybody who wouldn't stand up for Sam."

Mercedes thought about it. "Maybe it's time for a McKinley reunion," she said. "Do you think people would come? I mean everybody has work and obligations now."

"I just  _know_  they would," Blaine answered convinced. "And once Sam's home from the hospital he will need friends around him, and we could ..."

Mrs. Evans furrowed her brows by the last statement. "Blaine, there is something you should know. Sam have been drinking heavily the last couple of months and he will need to go to a rehab facility once he's recovered physically."

Blaine opened his mouth to object, but then he closed it again, utterly confused. Nothing seemed to fit with the Sam he knew. Where had this amazing guy turned wrong?

"Did you know about this?" Blaine's eyes begged for the truth as he turned to Mercedes.

"I suspected it," Mercedes said carefully. "But I didn't know for sure, and there was no way he would have told me."

All the brokenness between the three of them bundled up in Blaine's stomach, but then he realized that the two women were looking to him for help and comfort. He straightened up and gave them the most reassuring smile he could muster. "I do believe it's time to call "New Directions" and get everybody to help. We're going to beat this and help Sam on his feet again."

* * *

Somewhere along the way Blaine's imagination had tortured him with horrible, exaggerated images of Sam wired up to different life-supporting devices with tubes everywhere. He knew it was hardly the truth, but it still surprised him when he found Sam lying normally in the bed with his back to him. There was nothing uplifting about the room except for a single bouquet of flowers at the bed stand and Blaine realized he hadn't brought anything at all.

Sam turned around slowly as he heard the footsteps behind him. His face was bruised and swollen, the right eye was almost shut close and his bottom lip was stitched up. The lack of recognition or spark in the eye left to see threw Blaine on the spot.

"Hey stranger. Long time no see," Blaine managed to say in a poor attempt to start the conversation light.

Sam turned away again. "Blaine, what are you doing here? You don't have to be here."

His words were slurring due to the swollen lips and his voice was rusty. Blaine stepped closer until he reached the end of the bed. Underneath the duvet the outline of a cask around Sam's foot showed. "I'm checking up on a very good friend of mine, like it or not," he stated calmly.

Sam didn't make eye contact. "I'm fine. It's just a couple of bruises."

"It looks like more than a couple of bruises to me."

Sam sighed, moaning a bit by doing so. The broken ribs obviously made it hard for him to breathe properly. "Look, I appreciate that you've come all the way. But honestly, you'd be better off in New York. I'm not good company anymore and I can work this out by myself. So, please leave."

Blaine took a chair and placed it next to Sam's bed. Sam didn't have to look at him, but at least they were closer and his face would be easier to read than his back. "I'm not leaving, Sam, and I don't believe for  _one_  second that you can handle this by yourself. I think you need friends, more than ever. And I would be the shittiest friend if I abandoned you now," Blaine said quietly.

Sam didn't respond and Blaine chose to take it as a good sign. "Does it hurt a lot?" he asked.

"No."

"No pain in your chest or in your foot ... at all?"

"Nope"

Blaine nodded. "You are going to do this the hard way, aren't you."

"Yes."

"Do you care to tell me what happened?"

"No." Sam's eyes still didn't connect with Blaine. He just kept staring out of the window as if he tried to will Blaine to leave. Like an ostrich stubbornly burying it's head in the sand, wanting to vanish from the face of the earth.

But Blaine wouldn't let him. "Is it true that you owed the attackers money? That's at least what the police seem to believe," he said.

Sam blinked. "I know their theory. They've already been here. But they don't know shit and I'm not telling them anything. They are not in a position to help me anyway."

"Don't you want these guys to pay for they've done to you?" Blaine asked curious.

"Well I'm not pressing charges if that's where you're heading," Sam snared, finally looking at Blaine.

"Because you owe them money?"

Sam got angry. "Blaine, give it up! I don't want you or anybody else to get involved. I told you, I can handle this. This is way over your head and I'm telling you to leave me the fuck alone!"

Blaine's heart was pounding in his chest but he didn't budge and Sam was the first to look away again.

"But you still owe them money, right?" Blaine let the question hang in the air for a moment. He was determined to get Sam to answer that one question. "Sam, not talking to me isn't going to help you. They might come after you again, you know."

"Well they are not going to get to me as long as I'm here in the hospital, are they?" Sam's voice was still rough and hostile, but something in his bruised face started to cave, like a dike cracking at it's edges right before a flood pushes through.

"Sam," Blaine said softly and moved closer, "what about your family? Could they be in danger?"

Sam's eye found Blaine once more but instead of anger, fear now seeped through his entire appearance. "I don't know," he whispered. "I don't know what they are capable of. I'm sure they have bigger fish to fry than me. I just ..."

He trailed off but Blaine just gave him time. The internal fight in Sam ran over his face like shadows shifting in changing weather.

"It's all I can think of," Sam finally said. "Are my loved ones going to live in fear until I can pay the money back? I've put them through enough grief as it is. I'm breaking my dad's heart by the minute and I don't know how to look Stacey and Stevie in the eyes anymore. They've always looked up to me and now I'm disappointing them in the worst way possible."

"Hey, you're not disappointing anybody," Blaine objected. "Why would they think any less of you just because you owe some money. It may not have been your smartest move, but it's not the end of the world."

Sam's chin quivered. "Blaine, there are things about me you don't know. Things I would never be able to tell you. And I'm not innocent in this. Not by far."

"What are you talking about, Sam? I'm sure whatever you have done or whatever problems you are facing there is help to get. No problem lasts forever. There is always a solution. I'm sure if you just told me, I could help you."

"I can't, Blaine."

Blaine pressed his lips tight together. He had to get something from Sam today, but he didn't want to push him much more than he'd already done. "You don't have to tell me everything, Sam, but I have to know how much money you owe."

Sam closed his eyes and tears found their way through the swollen eyelid. Blaine moved closer and grabbed his friends hand. "You have to trust me buddy and let me help you. Not for my sake, but for your families safety."

Sam nodded and took a deep breathe. "I borrowed $10.000, but they've doubled it because I couldn't pay them back fast enough."

"That is insane! How can they get away with business like that?"

"It happens all the time. LA is packed with loaners who will kill you without hesitation if it would benefit them in any way. They are making seriously big money out of complete assholes like me. I'm telling you, LA is a fucked up city."

"Can't things like that be reported to the police?"

"No. It's not their business. And if you ever pressed charges against guys like those, you wouldn't survive the day."

Blaine swallowed. He couldn't believe Sam had actually gotten himself into so much trouble. And Sam was right about one thing; this was way over Blaine's head, and it scared the shit out of him, but he couldn't show how shaken he was. He had to be strong.

"Okay. We'll deal with this on our own," he concluded with a shiver.

"Blaine, I'm not getting you involved. It's really sweet of you to try and help me, but there is no way I'm letting you near those assholes."

"And how exactly are you going to do this without me?" Blaine asked firmly. "What is your plan, Sam? How are you going to raise $20,000, if not more, once you get out of here? How will you protect your family while you're here, crippled and beaten up?"

Sam hid his head in the crook of his elbow while tears streamed freely down his cheeks. "I don't know ... I don't know," he whispered hoarsely.

"You have to let us help you," Blaine said intensely. "We are here for you, Mercedes and I, Kurt, Artie and Puck. We are here to catch you and I promise you, that none of us think any less of you. There are still things for you to do in this life, Sam. Things that only you can do and there is a future out there, waiting for you no matter how difficult everything looks right now."

Sam squeezed Blaine's hand, like he was clinging to the hope Blaine tried to make him see.

"You once said told me, when I was in my deepest despair, that I was one of the good guys," Blaine continued. "It meant the world to me at the time, and now I'm saying it back to you. Sam, you're one of the good guys. Not because you don't make bad decisions, but because of your compassion. I've never met anyone who recognize or react to the needs in the world like you. So don't let your confidence go down on this. Fight for a new beginning. And when you're too tired to fight, then let me help you. Let Mercedes help you. We'll fight for you,"

Sam didn't say anything, but Blaine could tell he was listening. "Sam, I need the names of those guys and a phone number."

"No, Blaine, please."

"Look, I'm not going to approach them without the money."

"But where will you get that kind of money?" Sam asked desperately.

"I'll figure something out, and I promise I won't rob a bank or anything."

Sam didn't respond to the joke. Instead he found a focus point somewhere far away and his face went blank and numb as he spoke. "The leader of the gang is called Joseph," he finally whispered. "He rules a small area around the bar where I worked. He's a small fish in a big sea of crooks, but he means business. You'll have to call him and arrange a meeting. Make sure to agree on the amount of money you are going to pay them. They'll try to trick you any way they can." Sam's good eyes found Blaine and he leaned closer as the intensity grew in his next plea. "Don't go alone, Blaine. Take Puck and a couple of other guys with you."

"I promise," Blaine said with big eyes.

Sam exhaled with a moan and leaned back in the bed again. "And another thing."

"Yes?"

Promise me that you will let me pay you back somehow. I'm not giving you a phone number until you swear. I don't know how long it will take me, but I have to do it. Do you understand?"

Blaine nodded slowly. "I promise, Sam, but I also promise not to beat you up if you can't pay up on time. The worst I could do was to force you to play in "Sound Of Seduction" for a couple of years … or ten."

For the first time there was a hint of a smile on Sam's bleeding lips. "Well, it seriously wouldn't be the worst kind of punishment."

With big difficulty Sam got a hold on his phone from the bed stand and handed it to Blaine. "Joseph's listed in my contacts. Insist to only talk to him if someone else answers the phone."

"I'm gonna get a nurse to take a look at those lips again," Blaine said and took the phone with shaking hands.

Sam touched the wound. "Man, it opens all the time."

"I'm going to check up on your mom as well," Blaine said. "Can I tell Mercedes to come in?"

Sam's expression faltered. "No. I can't talk to her."

"Sam, you're breaking her heart when you do this. She loves you just as much as you love her. That hasn't changed.

"But her heart will break even worse when she eventually realize that I'm not worth all the trouble."

"Sam."

"I'm not going to change my mind about this, Blaine. I've given you a lot today, but this I cannot do. Please … tell her to move on."

Blaine walked towards the door with a heavy heart. "See you later," he said on his way out.

"So you will come back?" The words were loaded with a fragile hope as Sam's eye focused on his friend by the door.

"I'll be here for at least a week Sam, and I'll visit you as much as you want me to. And if you don't want me to, I'll visit you anyway," Blaine said firmly.

"And what if I kick you out," Sam said, trying not to smile too much.

"Then I'll sneak in here when you're asleep."

"You're out of your mind, Anderson!"

"Says the one who has gotten himself beaten up."

"Touche, brother of another mother," Sam said as his eye closed in exhaustion.

* * *

After Blaine had fetched a nurse he was finally able to meet up with Mrs. Evans and Mercedes again. His legs could hardly carry him and it felt like he had been caught up in a battle, far more difficult than he had imagined. He was exhausted and overwhelmed and it wasn't until now he truly realized how much he had been holding himself together.

The girls just hugged him and gave him time before they asked him anything.

"Did you get him to talk, Blaine?" Mrs. Evans finally asked.

"I did," Blaine said with a nod and dropped down into one of the chairs. "I've got a name and a phone number. Sam has agreed to let me raise the money somehow and set up a meeting. But we'll have to get around $25.000 to cover all expenses.

Mrs. Evans rubbed her hands in despair. "I had no idea it was that kind of money," she said heartbroken. "We still live from paycheck to paycheck with all the medical bills my husband gets and ..."

Blaine put a calming hand on the woman's small shoulder. "We'll think of something, Mrs. Evans. Mercedes and I will contact those who knew Sam from Glee-club. We  _will_ pull this through one way or another."

"But how?" she asked and looked to Blaine for reassurance.

"Leave it to us," Blaine said and pulled the shaking woman in for hug. His impulse to protect her kicked in full force. Mercedes joined them and rubbed Sam's mother on the back with soothing moves. Then she caught Blaine's eyes and with no words spoken she asked the question that Blaine had dreaded answering since he left Sam's room.

He shook his head with a sad expression on his face. "I'm sorry, Cedes," he whispered. "He's not ready yet."

She nodded with misty eyes and pulled herself together. "I understand," she said. "I'll just give him some time, then he and I will be fine, right?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Blaine responded. He could not break her heart just yet.

He let go of the two women. "If you'll excuse me," he said and got up on shaky legs. "I need to talk to Kurt. I really need to talk to Kurt now."

Then he stumbled through a door into a deserted hallway, leaned against the wall and slid down on the floor. He pulled out his phone and called Kurt.

"Hey beautiful," Kurt said with a soft voice as he picked up.

"Hey," Blaine said

"Are you okay, Blaine?"

"No, not really."

"Tell me all about it, baby. I'm here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you again Sunday ;)
> 
> Love Melissa


	5. The Director From Hell

Waking up in the apartment the day after Blaine had left was the loneliest feeling ever and Kurt just wanted to keep his eyes shut and not move at all. He missed the familiar warm body next to him and the way Blaine used to pull him in for a hug in the morning and snuggle his face in the crook of his neck. Now the bed just grew bigger and colder by the minute. The last two days had been a rollercoaster ride; from Cooper and Katie's beautiful wedding and the night spent at the hotel; to a shattered Blaine and one of their friend deeply troubled.

Kurt rubbed his temples and tried to chase all the gloomy thoughts away. He had to be mature about today. Not just about Blaine being miles and miles away but also about Dubrovski; whom he obviously wasn't in good terms with after the phone call yesterday. If Blaine had been here he would told Kurt to be the bigger man and make things work.

With a heavy sigh and a body barely receptive to orders Kurt put his naked feet down on the floor and dragged himself into the shower. He could be the bigger man if he  _wanted_  to, but something told him that the conversation yesterday had been about more than his simple request. Dubrovski had every right to deny him time off and Kurt didn't have a problem with authorities over all. But it was the condescending way the director had dealt with the matter that had been raging.

After the shower Kurt got dressed and went to the kitchen for a quick breakfast. The silence in the apartment was deafening. Kurt wasn't a big talker in the morning, but he suddenly realized that Blaine always hummed around him. Small bits and pieces of familiar tunes mixed with some of his own stuff. He sometimes wondered if Blaine composed from the moment he opened his eyes. It was always something new, a different pace, or a new feeling.

He picked up his phone and turned it in his hand absentmindedly. He  _could_ call him, but at the same time Kurt wanted to give him space today; which was why he just texted a simple:

_I love you and I miss you like crazy!_

On his way to the theater he decided to give Rachel a call. "Long time no see, sweetie," he started, a bit too high pitched because he got her machine and he hated answering machines. "I just wanted to check up on you, so give me a call later today, okay." He was just about to hang up when he remembered something. "Oh, and by the way, could you please ask around about a director called Dubrovski? I don't know his first name. He's the new director of Cordelia and I'm kind of curious about his reputation. Okay, that was all. Talk to you later."

After a good 15 minute walk Kurt stood in front of The Ensemble Theater, in the middle of Manhattan, near Union Square. The theater was owned by the wealthy Bartell family, who'd had it for centuries. It was not profitable, but the prestige in having a theater of your own had been enough for the descendants to keep it and spend whatever money was needed to present a decent program. But most importantly it was a theater closely monitored by the real Broadway stages, because of it's bold choices when it came to new plays. If a play was a success at The Ensemble it was likely to be picked up later.

Kurt pushed the big door open to the foyer and was met with a commotion of actors, dancers and people from the stage crew, checking schedules, talking and laughing, all ready to bring his play to life. It filled him with awe that all these people would be involved with something he, Blaine and Ally had created together. He looked around, not sure who to talk to when he was met by a young woman with a dimpled smile, a headset and an iPad. Her long blond hair was braided down her back and from the graceful way she moved Kurt guessed she was one of the dancers.

"You're Kurt Hummel," she said thrilled.

"Well I was the last time I checked," Kurt answered lightly.

"Welcome to the Ensemble," the girl said and gave him a firm handshake. "I'm Charleen and I'm trying to coordinate everything around here." She followed the commotion from the corner of her eyes. "I know it might seem a bit out of control, but I promise you it will all make sense eventually. Oh, and in my spare time I choreograph the dancers."

Kurt laughed. "Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"It should, it just rarely feels that way," she said with a sweet eyeroll. "But come with me, then I'll show you to your dressing room."

He followed her willingly through the theater hall until they entered the backstage area when something suddenly dawned on him. "Wait a minute, do you know Santana?"

The girl turned around and pointed her lips, attempting not to smile. "Yes, I know Santana."

"Are you  _that_ Charleen?" Kurt asked and raised his eyebrows.

"That depends," the girl said with a smirk and a tilted head.

"On what?"

"If she's said nice things about me or bad things."

Kurt squinted. "Nice, wasn't the word she used, um … I believe it was more like; hot."

The dimples showed again as a pearly smile spread across the girls face. She wasn't beautiful in a model-kind-of-way but everything about her was vibrant and powerful. It was quite obvious why she had pulled Santana's interest.

"Then I guess my answer is yes," she said and winked.

"Well nice to meet you, Charleen," he said amused.

"Nice to meet you too, Kurt Hummel."

She turned a corner and opened the door to a small room with a cabinet and a mirror. "I know it's not much, but I actually fought for you to have this. The alternative would be bunking with 12 others around 2 mirrors next door."

"It's perfect," Kurt said and entered. "I'm not used to big dressing rooms anyway."

She checked her iPad. "You only have five minutes to get settled then there will be a short briefing for everybody in front of the stage."

"Thanks," he said, before Charleen hurried on to her next task.

He looked around. The costumes from the Pantheon Theater were already hanging on the wall, wrapped in plastic. They needed repairs and stitches here and there, but it made him feel at home. He unpacked his skin care creams. Theater make up was tough on his pale complexion and he didn't trust the basic products most theaters used. Then he put up a couple of pictures from opening night at Pantheon on the corner of the mirror. He thought it might be a nice ritual to bring them. Nothing had been bigger than opening night a year ago he thought and let his index finger run along a photo of him and Blaine, taken right after curtain fall. He saw hope in the blue eyes of the Kurt standing in the picture. He had been given so much more than just hope that night.

He grabbed the script and looked around once more before he headed out. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.

With everybody seated, ready for the briefing, Charleen was the first to welcome them all. She ran through some practical issues and reminded everybody to take up any problems about contracts with Stevenson, the CEO of the theater instead of her. Then she gave the word to the director of the production.

Up until now the atmosphere in the theater had been overall positive and warm, but the minute Dubrovski rose from his seat Kurt felt the change in the room like a cooling breeze. Dubrovski's entire demeanor was stripped from humor and warmth. The dark hair was calmed straight back and a well trimmed goatee beard added character to his appearance. A pair of gray motionless eyes swept over the crowd as he began to talk.

"Welcome to the Ensemble Theater and congratulations to you all for earning a spot in the cast or crew," he started with a full-bodied voice, strong enough to reach the back seat row of the theater. "The next four months will not be a dance on roses. I can guarantee you that much. I'm well known for demanding a lot of the people I work with. But if you follow my rules and work around the clock you will be fine. If not - we may have a problem. Know this; each and every one of you are replaceable. I do not tolerate people being late or people who cannot remember their lines or their dance routines. Do not question my instructions. There is a reason why I'm the director and you are not."

Kurt rolled his inner eyes; something Blaine had taught him to steer out of trouble. How was he ever going to survive this? He would never get a second chance with Dubrovski when he obviously had broken more than one rule even before rehearsals had started. He looked around to see the reactions from his fellow peers. Some looked petrified while others clearly had heard the speech before.

"We will work in four different groups for the first three weeks of the production," Dubrovski bellowed from up front. "The dancers, the musicians, the actors and the crew. The dancers will answer to Charleen, the musicians to Richard and the actors to me. The crew are all regulars and know what's expected of them?"

Dubrovski scanned the room, looking for any kind of questions. But everybody seemed extremely well informed all of a sudden. "Am I being clear?" he asked, pronouncing every word carefully. His Russian accent came through, but his English was fluently never the less.

People around him nodded and somebody tried a "Yes sir". Kurt quietly pulled out his phone to check if it was muted. He would hate to pull any kind attention to himself right now. But as he looked up again he realized that it was too late. Dubrovski's greyish eyes were narrowing in on him.

"I see that the ever so famous Kurt Hummel, who apparently can't let five minutes pass without checking his phone, has decided to join us today," he said with an icy voice. "How big of him."

Dubrovski moved slowly closer. "You see, somehow Mr. Hummel was under the impression that he didn't have to show up today. But yet, here he is."

"Here I am," Kurt said and held the eye contact. "And I believe I was on time, sir."

The deafening silence around him indicated that he had just asked for more.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the director said and addressed them all. "As you may all be aware of Kurt Hummel is the author of the very play we are performing. And I'm sure than in some, less serious theaters, it would have provided him some advantages; maybe a different schedule; less rehearsals. But in  _this_  theater, under  _my_  instructions it gives him … nothing. He is just as replaceable as the rest of you. Somehow Mr. Hummel seems to have missed that memo."

Kurt had thousands of insults ready on the tip of his tongue, just begging to be set free and work to his defense, but he managed to keep them buried behind his gritting teeth. The guy was a parody of something from a bad movie; an evolutionary defect. How was he supposed to respect this guy ever? How was he supposed to follow instructions from an imbecil man, with a tunnel vision smaller than a paper roll, when theater was supposed to be a creative process, discovering multiple layers and possibilities?

Dubrovski had walked back in front of them all. "With these words being said I believe we are all ready to begin. You can now divide into the different groups and then I expect to get great reports from Charleen and Richard by the end of the day about how hard you've all worked. The actors will follow me to the conference room where we will begin the readings immediately. And please bring pencils; changes needs to be added in order to make this play work."

Kurt could have exploded when he returned to his dressing room to recover. He'd had his share of self obsessed teachers at NYADA, yet Dubrovski took the price. But if Dubrovski could play the game, Kurt could too. He was not going to let anybody walk all over him for no reason. The challenge, however, was not to turn this into a war zone, because that could mean the "death" of Cordelia - figurally speaking. He manned up, took the script and a pencil and embraced himself for whatever bullshit the director would throw his way.

Through the first three hours of readings Dubrovski made his point about Kurt very clear by systematically leaving out every scene that involved Coalan, and therefore Kurt. The afternoon wasn't any different except for two smaller scenes where Kurt finally was allowed to read. Which left him with a total of ten minutes meaningful work after 8 hours at the theater.

Kurt was furious, but he kept calm like quiet waters concealing a lurking monster.

He knew Dubrovski tried to make him lose his temper and he was determined not to let that only thing that helped him through that nightmare of a day was a phone call from Blaine and the following text from Rachel, late in the afternoon:

_I have news about Dubrovski. Meet me at "Callbacks" at 8? Miss you 3_

* * *

Kurt went straight to Callbacks when he was done at the theater. The thought of going home to the gloomy, empty apartment was not an option. He spent a couple of hours working on his laptop, checking emails and structuring a scene for the next play. It was a bliss to dive into a world he controlled completely and after a beer and a sandwich he was ready to approach his problem with Dubrovski from a more logical angle.

Rachel entered the bar at 8:30. She went straight to Kurt's table and hugged him quickly. "I just heard about Sam," she said out of breath as she let her jacket slide down from her shoulders. "It's just terrible, Kurt."

"Yeah," Kurt said and made room for her at the table. "He's not doing well at the moment."

"I'll get us some coffee and then you have to tell me a bit more." Without waiting for an answer she disappeared and made a beeline for the counter.

Rachel could whirlwind around all she wanted, but Kurt could tell something was up with her. She looked worn out and tired underneath the perfect make up. He watched her as she ordered, and recognized her nervous way of letting her fingers run along the sides of her dark hair. He knew her better than she expected.

She returned with a smile that didn't reach her brown eyes. "I've really missed you, Kurt," she said and pushed the steaming coffee his way.

"I've missed you too, and I'm a bit worried about you."

Her eyes wandered. "What do you mean? I'm okay."

"You're losing weight."

"Well that never hurt anybody and as long as it isn't too much. I'm not doing it on purpose anyway," she answered with a shrug and skillfully diverted the attention away from herself. "So, I have been making some phone calls for you about Dubrovski and you're not going to like what I have to tell."

"I don't think you can surprise me after what I've been through today," Kurt stated dryly.

"It appears that Dubrovski is fairly known, but not for anything good. He is called The Director From Hell," she said with big eyes.

Kurt snorted. "That sounds about accurate."

Rachel continued. "He used to be a very acknowledged director at The Russian Opera, but something happened five years ago that made Dubrovski cut all ties to his homeland and come here. Evil tongues claim that he just didn't feel appreciated enough, but that's hardly the entire truth. Since he came to New York he has been trying to work his way up to the top theaters on Broadway. First he wasn't hired because nobody really knew him, now all doors are closed because of his reputation as an insufferable person has ruined any chance he might have had."

Kurt frowned. "If that's the word out there I just don't get why The Ensemble hired him in the first place. And I know for a fact that Cordelia isn't the first production he is making for them."

"I think most directors are hired for a season and for an off-Broadway theater it's not bad to have someone from the Russian Opera on their program. I mean, his resume must look pretty impressive regardless his behavior," Rachel explained.

Kurt leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. "The issue here is not whether I like Dubrovski or not. Because the stakes are a lot higher than my pride as an actor and a writer. It's about Cordelia's future and if I'm not careful it might never see the light on the bigger stages. I know it's just a dream and I cannot know for sure if the play can go the distance. But to have everything shattered because of a director that somehow holds a grudge against me, that's just too much."

Rachel squinted across the table. "Kurt, I might have a theory about that, based on some more information I was told."

"About what?"

"Why Dubrovski has a problem with you."

"You mean besides me asking for three days off when he doesn't deliver special treatment?" Kurt asked.

Rachel shook her head. "It's not about that. Dubrovski has a nephew who's an actor. I think his name is Vladimir. He is not very trained, but Dubrovski managed to get him a spot at The Ensemble. I don't know which part he got, but apparently Dub wanted him to play Coalan."

"Keep talking," Kurt said and listened carefully.

"Well he must have been overruled somehow because you got the part instead and you didn't even audition for it. Wouldn't it fit his personality to take something like that out on you?"

Kurt searched frantically through his bag for the role list and scanned the names until he found what he was looking for. "Here he is; Vladimir Dubrovski; you're right. He plays the King Of The Fairies. Well, that's not a bad part at all, but Coalan is a lot more demanding. This is very interesting."

Rachel watched him carefully. "I hope this will help you somehow."

"It will," Kurt said thoughtful. "At least it will give me a fair idea about how to deal with the Russian monster." He sighed and put the role list back and ordered another cup of coffee for Rachel and one for himself.

"Now, tell me about Sam," Rachel said as soon as she got his attention again. "Santana was pretty uncertain about what had happened. Puck told her something about bringing the entire old Glee club together, but how can we help?"

Kurt took a gulp of coffee. It had to be his last cup or else he would lie awake for most of the night. "We have to raise about $25.000 dollars for Sam's debt and it obviously has to be organized somehow," he then said. "Tomorrow there will be a LA meeting with everybody living in that area, which means Mercedes, Puck, Artie and Blaine. They are trying to get Quinn to fly in from Phoenix as well. We have to set up a similar thing here in New York; you and me, Santana and Finn and maybe Brittany."

Does Britt live in New York?" Rachel asked confused.

"No, she lives in Boston, but hopefully she'll be able to come down here."

"What about Mike and Tina?"

"Mike's on tour in Japan with his dance group and Tina now lives in England. But they will both be informed about the situation.

"I've really lost track of everybody," Rachel mumbled. "I didn't even know Quinn lived in Phoenix. What does she do for a living?"

"Law school and then she works for a Public Defender. Her knowledge could come in handy in the process."

"Not bad for the cheerleader who thought her only option was to marry the quarterback," Rachel said, smiling to herself.

"It should never be anyones only option just to get married," Kurt added firmly.

"So when do we meet?" Rachel said and ignored his remark because she knew it was partly aimed at her and her "almost wedding" with Finn.

"Hopefully Wednesday."

Rachel nodded. "I'll make it work and I think Santana's free too. How about Finn?"

"I'm calling him tonight, but he's usually free on Wednesdays."

Rachel searched his face over the rim of her cup. "What happened with Sam?" she asked. "I mean not the beating and all, but the things leading up to it?"

Kurt sighed. "It's complicated. Blaine and Mercedes are only given a few pieces of the puzzle at a time and Sam's very guarded right now. But the 25 grant is for his freedom. Then they'll leave him alone. From there he has to recover, physically and mentally. Blaine called this afternoon, completely devastated, because Sam had changed so much. He's in a really dark place right now and we can only hope he'll be the old Sam in some form when all this is over."

"It's weird to think about," Rachel said quietly. "We were all gathered in that choir room so full of hopes and dreams, and now seven years later our lives are so completely different compared to each other."

"That's because life treats us differently. You and I have always had so much faith in our talents and our dreams, but by the end of the day we've had to rely on luck too. If Sam had had just a little more luck, maybe he could have found a good job; something to get him started. No matter how destined we want our future to be, it's also so full of coincidences."

Rachel seemed lost in her own thoughts and Kurt decided to pursue the reason for her sadness.

"We missed you and Mark at the wedding," he said with a small smile.

Her eyes snapped back to him and a guilty look appeared. "I know … and I wanted to be there. I just …"

Kurt leaned closer. "Rachel, since when haven't you been able to tell me everything?"

"I've left Mark," she suddenly said.

Kurt looked at her, taken aback by the news. Rachel and Mark had been together for three years and Kurt had grown fond of the guy. He had seemed to ground and balance Rachel at the same time, and that was no easy task. "Wow. I didn't see that one coming," he then said. "I thought the next news from the two of you would have been an engagement."

She looked down at her hands. "So did Mark."

"When did you leave?"

"Yesterday."

"But where are you staying," Kurt stuttered.

"I'm bunking at Santana's."

Kurt needed a minute and Rachel let him.

"If you need something more private you're welcome to move back at the loft," he suggested after a while.

"That's really sweet of you, but the loft isn't more private than living with Santana and besides … I need to find my own apartment; something more permanent."

"I honestly didn't know you guys had problems."

Rachel ran her fingers along the sides of her hair. "Kurt, do you think it's possible to have a midlife crises at 25?" she asked frowning.

"Is that what you're having?"

She looked at him without the forced smile; vulnerable and lost. "I don't know. I look at my life and as far as I'm concerned I have all I've ever dreamed of. I'm doing great parts at Broadway theaters, I live in New York, I had a boyfriend who treated me like a princess and who would have given me the world if I had asked him to. But lately … everytime I wake up, I'm overwhelmed with this empty feeling and I keep wondering if I'm missing out on something."

"Missing out on what?" Kurt asked.

"That's what I don't know. I just suddenly feel so trapped and I keep wondering if this is the rest of my life; standing on different stages and interpreting role after role."

"But isn't it what you've always wanted?" Kurt asked puzzled

"Yes, ever since I was a little girl, and that's why it's so confusing. But maybe I was given all this too quickly or maybe it has been too easy. I've never been forced to work out a plan B. I've never been forced to give up any of this, because I've never imagined something bigger than my dream. But now I hope there is something bigger; something I would be willing to fight for; something bigger than me." She sighed. "I know I don't make sense right now, but I can't explain it any other way."

"Try to be more specific," Kurt suggested.

"Okay," Rachel said and shifted in the chair. "When I look at you I know that you've been forced to work out a plan B, which turned out to be your writing. You never considered it in high school to my knowledge at least, but here you are, creating something unique. And one day you will stand on Gershwin or Al Hirschfeld and play Coalan in a play  _you_  have written. I know you will. I guess that I need to find my plan B. I need to have something more than Broadway. I just don't know what it is."

"But what has this to do with Mark?"

Rachel thought about it for awhile. "Let's say Blaine got a great opportunity with the band. Two years in Japan. What would you do? Go with him and give up on Broadway just when you were establishing your name; or stay in New York and try to make a long distance relationship work."

"I'd go with him," Kurt said immediately. "And then I would try to find something meaningful to do in Japan for two years."

"Exactly," Rachel said, happy with his conclusion. "You would do that because what you and Blaine have together is bigger than your own dream."

"But I wouldn't live in Japan forever."

"You wouldn't have to, because Blaine would never ask you to."

"And your point is?" Kurt asked squinting.

"I was not willing to give up anything for Mark," she said quietly.

Kurt nodded, finally connecting some of the dots she had shown him.

"And I'm not looking for another boyfriend," Rachel said reassuring. "I'm looking for a "drive" outside of Broadway. I just don't know how to find it and it makes me feel so lost."

"There is nothing wrong with being lost for awhile," Kurt said thoughtful. "Not for you or for Sam, even though the two of you are lost in different ways."

"What have made you so wise, Kurt Hummel," Rachel said with a mocking smile.

"People like Dubrovski," he answered sarcastically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, welcome to the evil Dubrovski and a more mature Rachel - and I'm still just getting started!
> 
> See you on Sunday and remember; reviews are lovely ;)
> 
> Melissa


	6. Securing The Fortress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies.
> 
> Just a little warning about the first part of the chapter. It covers Sam's state of mind and he's in a very dark place for now.
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy.

It was always hardest at night. His inner demon's feasted in the darkness, pushing him back and forth, tearing him apart until his soul was nothing but an open, bleeding wound. Merciless as they were, reason was never an option. Reason was replaced by twisted, terrifying images of something that resembled reality and at the same time couldn't be further from the truth.

His body ached for something to drink, anything. Alcohol was the medicine. It kept the darkness at bay and made it soft and fluffy instead of terrifying. Why would he choose terror over that? Why was he forced to live in a reality of shame and disappointment and pain, when obliviant was whispering sweet messages to him from the bottom of a bottle?

It was a tempting thought to just disappear in the darkness and never resurface. Close his eyes to never open them again. Wouldn't this undefined nothing be better than living through hell every single day? His family and friends would mourn him at first, but later on, their lives would be easier.

If he was lucky they would even remember him as the old Sam. The cute guy that used to help other people out, who did funny impressions and made everybody laugh.

But he was too scared to do it, too scared of the darkness to give in and too scared to close his eyes when he was lying here alone.

That's why he didn't sleep at night; he was too scared.

He had been scared for a long time; ever since he had started taking steroids. First it had been empowering to see his body change and his appearance improve. 18 year old guys with bodies sculpted to perfection had been constantly breathing down his neck at the club and everybody had to fight like crazy for a steady routine on the stage. But he could make more money in one night that he could through an entire month with the shitty jobs he'd had up until that point; which meant he had to use drastic methods to stay in the competition.

The first negative change he had registered about himself was losing his patience. It was with his family and with Mercedes in particular. It was a constant annoyance over things that had never bothered him before. And the fact that Mercedes was not under any circumstances allowed to know that he was stripping again only added to the stress. It didn't take long for him to decide that he had to let her go. She deserved so much more than what he could ever give her. Now that she knew about the strip club nothing mattered anyway.

He knew steroids wasn't supposed to be mixed with alcohol but his broken heart had ached so badly and he had been so determined to forget about her that he had done it regardless. It started as a little "pick-me-up" before he would hit the stage, then he needed something to wind down after the show and from there it escalated.

After a month on the dangerous cocktail the rages came, unpredictable and uncalled for. And it was during a rage he had done things that changed the game for Sam Evans forever. What happened that night could not be known to any of his friends, not just because it was the night he was introduced to Joseph, but because he had hurt somebody.

Joseph had controlled everything in Sam's life after that night. The money had just been an excuse.

He didn't remember much from the attack itself. He had been drinking heavily, trying to find his way home to the smelly room in the basement of an old building where he could live for the money he didn't have. They had ambushed him in an alley, making sure that he knew who they were. He hadn't felt the pain at first, but one thought got stuck in him as they kicked him over and over; he thought he was going to die and it suddenly had felt like a solution.

Tears prickled underneath his swollen eye as he was lying here alone in the darkness. It was 5 in the morning and Blaine had promised him to be here at 8. He just needed to get through 3 more hours.

He  _had_  to.

He couldn't sleep before Blaine was here.

Just three more hours.

* * *

Blaine tossed and turned in his bed for hours. He was more sleep deprived than ever, but an uneasiness grew from within. Something troubled him; a nagging, undefined feeling that wouldn't let go. Bits and pieces of his conversation with Sam the previous day came and went in confusing, random passages. And most of the time it didn't make sense. He wasn't any closer to solving the mystery about how Sam had gotten in touch with Joseph in the first place and why he had needed the money.

Half an hour later he got up, took a shower and left a note to Mercedes before he headed out the door and drove down to the hospital. He had rented a car for a couple of days, which made it easier for him and Mercedes to plan out the practical things.

One of the nurses remembered him from the morning before and poured him a cup of coffee with a smile. "You're early, Blaine," she said and started to clean up the desk after the night shift.

He shrugged. "I couldn't sleep anyway, so I might as well be down here."

"Let me know if you guys need anything. We're still keeping an eye out on the stitches in his lip, so you better do most of the talking today."

"I'll try," Blaine said, thankful to be trusted.

Sam looked like he'd seen a ghost when Blaine stepped in at 6 am. "Why are you here so early?" he asked with red eyes.

"I figured you needed some company," Blaine said and offered a small smile.

Sam leaned against the pillow behind him with an exhausted sigh and started to cry.

"Hey, are you okay? Has something happened?" Blaine asked and rushed to the bed.

"I'm okay now," Sam said and closed his eyes over dripping tears. "Can you please stay with me while I sleep. I haven't slept all night and I'm just so tired."

Blaine sat down on the chair next to Sam's bed. "Of course I can, that's why I'm here. Why haven't you slept?"

"Too scared," Sam mumbled, already drifting away.

When Mrs. Evans stepped into the room a couple of hours later with breakfast for both the boys, she found them sound asleep. Sam in his bed and Blaine on the chair next to him, curled into a ball.

* * *

For the rest of the day Blaine took shifts with Sam's mom to make sure Sam was never left alone. Mercedes stayed in the waiting room with her phone and a laptop, trying to arrange all the practical things for the next couple of days; and to be near by, in case Sam wanted to see her.

The most important task ahead of her was to find a rehabilitation facility that would take Sam the moment he was released from the hospital. The public rehabs had waiting lists and Sam was in no state to wait. And the private ones were way too expensive to be covered by the little insurance the Evans' had.

Mercedes tried calling different funds and organizations to see if anybody could help them out, but it was a massive and tiring process with very little hope in the horizon. Quinn did her best to keep Mercedes' spirit high over the phone. She wasn't able to make it to LA until the weekend, but she promised to help them out as much as possible from her office in Phoenix. At the same time Blaine kept Kurt posted and made sure the New York side was updated through him.

Sam's mom had a meeting with one of his doctors around noon and she was kind enough to inform Blaine and Mercedes about the situation.

"They are treating him with antidepressive medicine now," she said as they all grabbed something to eat at the cafeteria. "They think he has suffered from depression for quite a while and it could explain his anxiety attacks at night."

"I thought it was connected to the actual attack," Blaine said.

"I'm sure it's a part of it, Blaine. He must be reliving that night over and over again," Mrs. Evans said. "But they will give him something calming at night, so hopefully he'll get more rest the next couple of days. Which you and I should too, Blaine."

Blaine smiled sadly. It would be a lie to say he wasn't tired. But it had been heart breaking to see Sam so scared and he'd hate to see that happen again.

"It means you're going home to sleep, Blaine," Mrs Evans continued firmly, as if she could read his thoughts. "Promise me you will sleep until you're rested." She turned to Mercedes. "I trust you to keep him home for that long."

"Yes ma'am," Mercedes said with a smirk.

Mrs. Evans nodded as if something very important had been established. "For my own part I will enjoy having my children gathered tonight, despite the circumstances."

"Has Sam agreed to meet his siblings?" Mercedes asked.

"No, not yet," Mrs. Evans replied. "But there are things even Sam can't decide and this is one of them."

Late in the afternoon Puck and Artie arrived with Stacey and Stevie. The two kids were now teenagers and especially Stacey looked a lot like Sam. The insecurity was detectable on their faces as they were reunited with their mom.

"How is dad?" Mrs. Evans asked her son and reached up to push a lock of hair away from his eyes. He stopped her gently, not interested in being treated as a kid in front of Sam's friends.

"He is better. He wants to come down here as soon as possible," Stevie answered.

"I get that. I just don't know if it will help Sam in any way," his mom said with a frown. Then she turned to Artie and Puck. "How can I ever thank you for taking such a long ride to get my children?"

"No need," Puck said with a perky smile. "Stevie drove most of the way back anyway."

Mrs Evans looked at her son with raised eyebrows, ready to ask if he had been careful, but Stevie cut her off. "You see, mom.  _They_  trust me to drive."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Sweetie," she tried. "It's just a very, very long ride to take on your own."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Stevie said and hugged his mother.

"How is he," Stacey asked impatiently behind them. "I want to see him right away."

Mrs Evans dragged her daughter into the group hug. "He is not good, honey, but I promise you he'll get better."

Blaine, Mercedes, Puck and Artie left the Evans family alone and found a quiet corner to talk. Blaine hadn't seen his two old friends in years, and for a moment everything was wrapped in the light of a happy reunion. Blaine learned that Artie was working for an independent producer after graduating from USC School of Cinematic Arts and that Puck was working for a construction company, and was about to renovate a house of his own. Together the four of them relived a couple of McKinley moments, but as Sam was a recurring part of the memories they soon got to a point where their common worries about Sam were shared.

"How was your trip with the siblings?" Blaine asked Puck and Artie, curious if something more could be added to the puzzle.

"They are dealing with the situation very differently," Artie stated as the first. "Stevie is hiding behind all the practical issues. He feels very responsible for his mom and his sister now that both Sam and their dad are unable to take care of them. Stacey is more emotional and outspoken. She cried a lot in the car, but we tried to calm her down as much as we could."

"They don't care what Sam has done," Puck added, "they just want him to be well again and they miss him a lot. I don't think he has been home for a while, actually."

"He hasn't," Mercedes confirmed.

"How long will they stay?" Blaine asked.

"They are staying here in LA with their mom for the next two days." Artie answered. "Then they'll have to go back to school. Mrs Evans will join them and then return here later with Sam's dad if he is well enough."

"Which means there will be a couple of days where Sam won't have his family around," Mercedes summed up. "Depending on when he will be released from the hospital he will need somebody to help him move to the facility."

"Have you found a place for him to go?" Blaine asked.

"No," she answered with a heavy sigh. "We have to remove him with such short notice and the private facilities will not take him unless the financial situation is covered. I've called a ton of organizations, but so far there is no luck. I'll continue tomorrow and Quinn has promised me to help out as well. Maybe her boss have some connections."

"But we still have a few days left, right?" Puck asked.

"I think so," Mercedes said. "But it's likely that he'll be out of here by Friday or Saturday. So something have to give unless we want to send him home to San Francisco with his parents. And that will not help him in any way."

"No," Blaine agreed. "We have to keep him here in LA, where his friends are close by."

"I'll call the minister at my church," Mercedes said. "He knows who Sam is. I need somebody to help me pray, because this is more than I can bear. And even  _if_  we find a facility I might not be able to help getting him there. As long as Sam won't talk to me or see me I'm kind of stuck here."

Blaine recognized the pain residing in her eyes and he wish he could promise her that everything would be okay between her and Sam. But he couldn't; all he could do was hope. He took her hand and squeezed it. "Today he's dealing with his siblings and I think I can clear Puck and Artie with him tomorrow. I'm sure he'll come around, sweetie."

Mercedes looked at him, trying to grasp his optimism, but the day had taken it's toll on her. She cleared her throat and braved up. "Anyway, Quinn will be here for the weekend and maybe a couple of days more. She'll be great to have around. Today she has set up a bank account, ready for payments by tomorrow and hopefully we will be able to raise enough money to contact Joseph and his gang very soon."

Blaine took over by the mention of Joseph. "I have a phone number for this guy, but I honestly don't know how to handle him. Do we call him now or do we wait until we have the money?"

Puck shifted in his chair. "I've thought about that," he said, "and I think I can come up with some sort of plan. If you can give me the details I could contact him. I need to talk to him to figure out what kind of man he is anyway."

Blaine could feel a stone falling from his heart by Puck's offer. "You will do that?"

"Sure." Puck nodded. "I'll ask around. Not that I know anybody in the loaners biz, but there is always information to get if you pay for it. And I will need the location of the bar where Sam worked, too"

"I can give you that," Mercedes said quietly.

"Okay," Blaine said, eager to get things moving. "Tomorrow Kurt will have a meeting with Santana, Brittany, Rachel and Finn. They will work out who can come to LA and when.

Artie looked around the table with a frown. "What can I do?" he asked.

"You have the biggest house, Arts," Puck said. "And with people coming and going to LA they'll need somewhere to stay."

"Sure," Artie said. "I can have a couple of people at a time."

"Can Quinn stay with you, then?" Mercedes asked. "My spare bedroom is kind of occupied." She side eyed Blaine with a smirk. "And unless Quinn and Blaine wants to share a double bed we need somewhere for her to be."

"Or I could move in with Artie," Blaine said in a hurry to Mercedes. "If you need to spend time with Quinn, I mean."

"No, no, no," Mercedes said and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not letting you go that easily, Blaine. You're staying with me. And if Kurt misses you too much, he'll just have to come to LA instead."

"Yeah, I wish he could," Blaine said and felt the need for Kurt all the way down to his stomach.

* * *

It was way over midnight before Blaine called, but Kurt didn't mind. He was just zoning out on the couch anyway, not ready to go to bed yet.

"Hey, baby," he said and smiled into the room.

"Sorry I'm calling so late," Blaine said apologetically. "I was afraid you'd already gone to bed."

"I probably should, but my bed feels kind of boring without you in it."

Blaine hummed. "It's definitely not the same, no."

"You sound tired."

"I am. I think I'm still on New York time and then I barely slept last night."

"Sorry to hear that," Kurt said. "We can just make it short tonight."

"No, no, no," Blaine objected. "Please talk to me until I fall asleep. Then it almost feels like you're here."

Kurt closed his eyes and dwelled in the feeling of being so appreciated. "I'll talk until you fall asleep then," he said softly. "How did the meeting with Puck and Artie go?"

"Great. We all know what to do for the next couple of days and hopefully even more details will come together once you've held your meeting tomorrow."

Blaine's words were slurring a bit and it sounded kind of cute, Kurt thought.

"We have one major challenge ahead of us though," Blaine continued. "We need to find a rehab within the next couple of days, and it's going to cost. I know we all want to help out, but we're reaching the limit for what kind of money we can raise."

Kurt thought about it for a while. "Have you talked to your dad about it?"

"No; I'm not going to let him pay."

"That's not what I meant. Didn't you say that your dad and his business partner established a trust fund in the name of the partners daughter; for kids in trouble?"

Blaine got quiet. "I cannot believe I haven't thought about that," he said with a sigh. "Either you're a genius or my brain is completely fried."

"I'll stick to the genius part."

"Okay, you're a genius, Kurt. I can't wait to tell Mercedes. Cooper is the one in charge of the fund, but I'll just have to call him on his honeymoon."

"He'll be thrilled. I'm sure he is bored by now."

"With Katie? Not a chance," Blaine laughed.

Things got quiet between them.

"When can you come home?" Kurt asked softly.

Blaine cleared his throat. "I talked to Matt earlier today and he rescheduled the gig we were suppose to do this Saturday. So I'm definitely staying for the rest of the week. I need for the money to be paid and Sam installed in rehab before I can leave with peace in mind."

"Well that's great … or kind of, I mean. I just hoped you'd be back by Thursday like we planned. But I'm happy you can help Sam."

"Why don't you just come to LA this weekend? Blaine suggested hopeful. "Take a flight Friday afternoon and go back Sunday?"

"I'm not sure it's manageable," Kurt said with a heavy heart . "We are called in for an extra rehearsal on Saturday, so I'm practically forced to stay in New York."

"Isn't it weird to call in for an extra rehearsal this early in the production?" Blaine asked confused.

"I guess, but it's not the only thing that's weird about this experience. I think I have to accept things out of the ordinary."

"Oh god, Kurt. I haven't even asked how things are at the theater," Blaine burst out. "I'm so sorry. I've been completely absorbed in everything here."

"You should be. And believe me, you don't want to know anyway and I don't feel like talking about it."

"Yes, I  _do_  want to know," Blaine objected, a bit more awake by now. "I need to hear something that's not connected to sickness and sad stuff and bad guys lurking around the corner."

Kurt gave in and let his anger surface. "Well, Dubrovski is just about the most obnoxious, inconsiderate, condescending bully I have ever met," he said flatly. "He rules that theater through fear and threats, and guess what; I'm his number one target. It feels like being back in high school before I met you."

"That's awful!" Blaine said upset. "You're not letting him get away with it, right?"

"Now listen to you, Mr. Diplomat," Kurt said amused.

"No, seriously Kurt. That's a ridiculous behavior for an adult. Teenagers don't always understand the consequences of what they say or do, but this is different. And what's his problem with you anyway," Blaine continued. "Doesn't he know how talented you are?"

"Oh, it's very simple when it comes to me, at least. I was not his first choice for the role of Coalan. So I get that he is not a big fan. But for the overall impression and the way he treats everybody around him, I'm clueless. Maybe he was born pissed. I don't know."

"But nobody can play Coalan like you."

"You're sweet, honey, but you're also very biased."

"No, you don't understand. Kurt, I wrote those songs to  _you_. I wrote them for  _your_  voice and in  _your_  range. It's not just a part for everybody." Blaine paused. "Who was his first choice anyway?"

"His nephew," Kurt stated dryly.

"OH COME ON. Talk about biased," Blaine said in an uproar.

Kurt couldn't hold back a laugh. "You are my favorite boyfriend, do you know that?"

Blaine softened and the sound of a smile snug into his voice. "Well I'm glad you feel that way. Here I am, all upset on your behalf and you just laugh at me."

"You cheer me up and I needed that. What can I say," Kurt said as an excuse.

"Why don't you file a complaint? Or go head to head with him? Bullies aren't supposed to win," Blaine continued.

"But that's what he wants, Blaine," Kurt explained. "He's looking for an excuse to get rid of me or make my life so miserable that I'll quit. But I'm not taking the bait. If he can play the game so can I. Which means that I'm holding my breath whenever he's around, just to prevent stupid words from leaving my mouth. But it's hard to hold your breath for an entire day."

"I can only imagine."

"I know, that's why I'm dying slowly," Kurt responded. "But that's not even the worst part. What really gets to me is that he actually seems to care a lot about the play. He see the layers, he add new perspectives to the dialogues and he knows how to emphasize the internal struggles in the characters. And that just throws me. How can he be so good at interpretation and completely suck as a communicator?"

"Can't we just hate him no matter what?" Blaine asked with a sigh.

"You're right," Kurt said. He wasn't up for analyzing Dubrovski tonight anyway. "Let's keep it simple. I do hate the guy."

They kept talking for awhile and once Kurt had guided the conversation away from Dubrowski he picked up on Blaine's sleepiness again.

"You need to rest now, Blaine," Kurt said, without wanting to hang up though.

"I know," Blaine mumbled. "Why don't you sing a song for me, then I promise I'll go to sleep."

"No, no, no, " Kurt objected. "You're the one singing on the phone, not me."

"Please, baby. It would mean so much to me," Blaine begged. "Do it for me."

Kurt knew he had lost. Even without Blaine's puppy eyes right in front of him he couldn't resist. He sighed. "I can't believe I'm doing this. What do you want me to sing?"

"A song that makes you think about me," Blaine said happy.

Kurt closed his eyes and searched his head for a song that meant something for both of them. Then he smiled and cleared his throat.

"Are you ready?"

"Yep. My eyes are closed and everything."

_It's a little bit funny , this feeling inside_

_I'm not one of those who can easily hide_

_I don't have much money, but boy if I did_

_I'd buy a big house, where we both could live_

Kurt could hear Blaine humm in satisfaction and it made his voice grow stronger by the next lines.

_So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do_

_See I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue_

_Anyway the thing is what I really mean_

_Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen_

_And you can tell everybody this is your song_

_It may be quite simple, but now that it's done_

_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words_

_How wonderful life is now you're in the world_

_If I was a sculptor, but then again no_

_Or a girl who makes potions in a traveling show_

_I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do_

_My gift is my song, and this one's for you_

_And you can tell everybody this is your song_

_It may be quite simple, but now that it's done_

_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words_

_How wonderful life is now you're in the word_

_How wonderful life is now you're in the world._

When Kurt had sung the song twice he could hear Blaine breathing calmly on the other end of the line. Then he hung up and smiled into the darkness of their living room.

He fell asleep on the couch a moment later with a line from Moulin Rouge stuck in his heart.

**The greatest thing you'll ever learn - is just to love and be loved in return.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll love Moulin Rouge until the day I die 3
> 
> I could really use some reviews. Just a few words would make my day ;)
> 
> See you Wednesday


	7. A New York Minute

Kurt hated Dubrovski.

For three days straight he had been sitting on a chair, only participating in a couple of readings or scenes. It was beyond ridiculous and the most childish behavior he had _ever_ witnessed from someone who was supposed to be a professional. His need to get to Dubrovski somehow was intensifying as he saw the rest of the cast suffering from the bad communication as well. Dubrovski didn't have _one_ encouraging bone in his body and his ability to make everyone around him feel like incorrigible high school students with no talent in sight was crushing their spirits.

As Kurt walked home from the theater on Wednesday he tried to come up with a strategy that didn't focus on Dubrovski, but still could make a difference for the cast. The lack of goodwill Kurt had with the director wasn't a part of the cast's overall perception of him. A lot of them had assured him of their respect for him as an actor and a writer. If Dubrovski, all by himself, could create such a toxic environment, maybe Kurt, all by himself, could reverse it, by encouraging everybody around him. He would have to be the communicator Dubrovski wasn't. Not to rescue the directors sorry ass, but for the greater good and for Cordelia.

He hurried up the stairs as he kept checking for messages from Blaine. Sam was being evaluated today and with a bit of luck he could leave the hospital on Friday or Saturday. Cooper had immediately granted the financial support to Sam which made it possible for him to check in to a private facility.

The account was up and running and $15,000 had already been submitted. Kurt knew he and Blaine had paid $5,000 and the rest was probably from Artie and Puck. Mike would transfer his donation later today, which meant that they most likely would hit the $25,000 once the New York gang would join as well.

He tidied up a bit in the apartment and set the table for 5. Finn had already texted him from a cab and would arrive in about 10 minutes. He would stay over for the night and Kurt was looking forward to spending some time with his brother. Brittany was driving down from Boston in an old car she had borrowed from a friend. But unluckily the car had broke down on the way and had to be towed. Santana had arranged a pick up for her and they would be in Manhattan in about an hour. Rachel would probably come half an hour late. She'd had a miserable day. Mark had called her, crying over the phone because he wanted her back. It had torn her apart but there was not much Kurt could do to help her right now.

He quickly changed to a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and did a check up on his hair. Two minutes later Finn knocked on the door. His lopsided smile hadn't changed since high school, but the insecurity that had haunted him as a teenager was gone and the last couple of years had brought the brothers closer together. Finn came to New York on a regular basis and Kurt really enjoyed his company.

"Hey big dork," Kurt said and reached up for a hug. "Just in time to help me get ready."

"And here I was hoping to be just in time for dinner." The big guy squeezed all the air out of Kurt, as to remind him of his physical superiority.

"Oh you'll get fed, no worries," Kurt said, huffing out strangled laughter. "I don't believe you've ever left New York hungry."

"Thats right," Finn chuckled and let go of his brother again. He took off his shoes and put them nicely next to Kurt and Blaine's on the floor. Some things needed to be done right to keep Kurt happy after all.

"How was your flight?" Kurt asked over his shoulder and went for the kitchen.

Finn followed. "You know it _could_ have been nice. They were showing "The Bourne Identity 3" - the one I never saw, which always confused me about number four - but then I get to sit next to this sweet looking old lady and I made the mistake to answer her politely when she asked me about something."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Finn, don't do that! You know you have be strong from the beginning or else they think they can chat away for hours. The longer they talk the harder it is to stop them."

"I know, I know," he laughed, "I just failed big time and before I knew it she was telling me this horrible story about her cute little dog that's sick and throws up all the time."

"Gross."

"And before I could stop her she showed me pictures of the poor beast that turned out to be an ugly, obese dog. And all the images I had of a white, fluffy creature with a pink bow vanished before my eyes. I didn't know what to do."

Kurt started to giggle.

"I wanted to laugh so bad," Finn continued with a big grin on his face, "but she was practically in tears, and it would have been so rude."

"So what did you do?" Kurt asked through some more muffled laughter.

"I pretended to choke on a peanut and headed for the bathroom, and then I laughed my ass off, all by myself."

"Oh my god this is sooo funny," Kurt snorted.

"Well that's not even the end of it. The poor little lady got so concerned for me that she had one of the flight attendants check up on me."

"Making sure you were not choking on a peanut?"

"I swear, he was ready to do a Heimlich on me if necessary."

Kurt couldn't stop laughing. Being a writer made him visualize something like this as vivid as if it was performed on stage right in front of him. "God I'm glad you're here," Kurt said happy as he tried to calm down again. "I needed a good laugh like that."

"Glad my awkwardness can make you feel good," Finn said.

Kurt put some grapes and cookies on the kitchen table and the boys sat down. "So, how's dad and Carole?" Kurt asked every time even though Finn hadn't lived home for years and practically didn't know more than Kurt.

Finn dug in right away with great appetite. "They are like two tornadoes, one moment they are in town, and the next they are gone. I can't keep track of them."

"You're looking out for my dad, right?"

"Kurt, you of all people should know how stubborn he can be. He doesn't want to be looked after. And besides, he married a nurse. He'll be fine."

Kurt reluctantly surrendered. Finn was right. Sometimes he just wish his dad and Carol lived close by. "I have to admit it was a smart move of him, marrying a nurse," he stated and took a bite of a cookie.

"As far as I remember it wasn't really _his_ move. It was _yours_ ," Finn mumbled with a smirk.

"Don't go there, Finn," Kurt said with a warning look.

"You know, thinking about it today, I'm kind of flattered," Finn said and ignored his brothers warning.

Kurt rolled his eyes dramatically. "Why on earth are you suddenly flattered. You could have any girl on McKinley and instead you got stuck with the only openly out gay kid in the entire school."

"I could not have any girl." Finn objected.

"Are you kidding me, you were the freaking quarterback!"

Finn smiled sadly. "That I was. It suddenly feels like ages ago, right?"

The melancholic tone in his brothers voice came as a surprise to Kurt "Yes, but I don't want to go back. I'm better now, and so are you ... or at least I think you are."

"I'm fine if that's what you're asking," Finn answered. "It's just a lot of good memories and I sometimes miss it. Things were simple back then."

"Simple?" Kurt said with a raised eyebrow. "You had a pregnant girlfriend with a baby you thought was yours and on top of that you were stuck in the middle of the constant drama between Rachel and Quinn. It sounds complicated enough."

"Maybe, but look at us now. We all turned out pretty decent," Finn said and laughed.

"Well at least I did," Kurt pointed out and raised his chin with a smirk.

The brothers continued the friendly banter that they both had gotten so used to until their conversation turned towards more serious subjects.

"How is Blaine?" Finn asked and shot a glance at the last cookie.

Kurt absentmindedly pushed the plate closer to his brother. "He's fine, all things considered. It was tough the first couple of days but things are lightening up." Kurt bit his lip. "I miss him though. I know it sounds stupid. He hasn't been gone for more than four days ... it's just ... it's empty without him."

"I don't think that's stupid at all," Finn replied without hesitation. "You love him and despite what we may tell ourselves, love is the purpose of life."

Kurt nodded, because that's exactly how it felt. "So how is it going with your purpose in life," he asked curious.

Finn made a funny face. "Haven't quite found that kind of purpose yet, but I'm not in a hurry,"

"What happened to that girl - was it Jennifer - the one you dated when Blaine and I were home for Christmas?"

"Oh, Jessica, nah, she was talking too much."

"Says the guy who dated Rachel Berry."

Finn squinted. "With Rachel it was different. She talked a lot, but I liked what she had to say."

"She's coming tonight, you know," Kurt said.

"I know, but we're fine now. And it will be great talking to her again," Finn said calmly. "I haven't seen her since opening night for Cordelia."

A blasting noise from the other side of the door interrupted the boys when Brittany and Santana knocked relentlessly, in the middle of a giggle attack.

Kurt unlocked the door and the two girls stumbled inside, filling the room with laugher.

"Hey Kurt," Brittany said with an ear to ear smile and fell into a tight hug.

"Well hello there," Kurt replied and blew a strand of her hair out of his eyes. "Welcome to New York, hon."

She looked different in many ways. Her hair was shoulder length and darker than it had been when she had worked the hallways at McKinleys as a cheerleader. She wore a pair of soft balloon pants, a shirt with wide sleeves and no make up. But she was vibrant and happy.

"It's awesome seeing you guys," she said and moved on to Finn. "I can't believe so many years have passed." Her eyes switched between the brothers and a sudden frown appeared in her forehead. She put a hand to her hip. "But I have to be honest with you, the years do show. If you guys don't take care of yourselves and make sure to eat organic, healthy food, things are going downhill from here. I have seen so many horrible, horrible examples and if you've got a computer around here I can show you some pictures that will make you change your ways of living instantly. And it's not just a matter of skin care products, Kurt," she continued and pointed at him, hardly taking a breath. "If those products are modified with all kind of toxic additives, you're not only harming yourself, you're harming the environment as well."

Kurt squinted and stepped closer to her, real slow, like a predator considering it's tactic before attack. "It's good to see you too, Britt, but if you _ever_ again say that I'm aging badly, I'm going to kick your ass out of my apartment and all the way back to Boston."

Britt's face split into a huge grin and she gave Santana a pinky greeting. "I told you I could get a reaction."

Santana shook her head. "And I never contradicted you. I simply claimed that I know Kurt better than you do."

"Am I the subject of some sick game here," Kurt asked surprised. He would never admit it to anyone, but Santana's statement made him feel all warm inside. He cared about Santana in a way Brittany would hardly understand after all these years.

"No sick game, just a lot of fun," Brittney explained and snuck her arm around Santana's waist. "I have been asking a lot of questions on the way down here. Just trying to catch up, that's all."

Kurt side eyed Santana. They had always been a great couple, Brittana, but it seemed like Brittney was trying too hard right now, and if Kurt had read Santana right, something was wrong.

"So, what a great place you have here, Kurt," Brittany said as they all continued into the living room.

"Thank you," Kurt said, not quite sure what to expect next. And he didn't have to wait long before the next Brittanism, let's-all-go-environmental, showed.

She kind of twirled in the room as her eyes seem to follow something interesting that the rest of them could only hope to be enlightened about. "I think I would have decorated it different though," she stated with a puzzled facial expression. "Just to make sure the energies don't collide."

Kurt didn't know how to deal with this new and unexpected side of Britt and still connect with her somehow, but Finn saved him like an angel from above.

"I hear your car broke down on the way here, Britt. Maybe that was energies colliding too," he stated with a smirk.

Santana snorted behind them but Brittany didn't seem to notice.

"It's my boyfriends old car and it doesn't like me very much. We don't connect on an emotional level so to speak." She pursed her lips. "Do you guys think I subconsciously made it break down?"

"No Britt," Santana said and crossed her arms. "That car was junk. It was never meant to last all the way down here anyway. Let the colliding energies go, girl."

Kurt couldn't wait for Rachel to show so they could get started. He was not sure how much more of Brittany he could handle in one night. But Finn clearly felt differently.

"So how is life treating you, Britt," he asked as they all got comfortable in the couch and the chairs. "What are you doing for a living?"

Her smile was as bright as the sun, as if she'd been waiting forever to answer some private questions. "Well, my boyfriend, Jonas, is a marine biologist and a scientist and then he works part time as a professor at Boston University. We travel all over the world when he's supposed to collect samples of … of stuff. I work for Greenpeace whenever I can, but I'm not participating in anything dangerous though. I would never survive prison food, you see." Her eyebrows disappeared underneath her long bangs. "The funny thing is that we met each other at McDonalds, both trying to drown our broken hearts in grease and delicious, delicious fries and suddenly we had talked for three hours. I'm sure if anybody had seen us that night they would never have guessed where we would have ended up. And that's the funny thing about life. I mean we think we know so much about who we really are and still sometimes it takes a burger before everything makes sense."

Finn was the first to interrupt the endless stream of words leaving their friends mouth. "Um, how old is your boyfriend exactly?" he asked confused.

"He's 45," Brittany said and put her chin to rest on her fist as a dreamy look overtook her eyes. "But you would NEVER be able to tell. He's like a 20 year old in bed."

"Too much information," Santana moaned. "Just, too much."

Brittany clasped her hand over her mouth. "Oops," she said. "Sorry about that. Kurt where is the bathroom? I think I drank too much tea on the way down here and things are happening kind of fast in the lower department, if ya know what I mean."

"Sure," Kurt stuttered. "Um, just down the hallway."

"Great," she said and turned around with her hair and shirt swaying around her. "See you in a minute."

When she had left Kurt and Finn looked at Santana with equally puzzled minds.

"She's nervous," Santana explained and lowered her voice. "And she's _very_ upset about Sam. She cried most of her way down here. She's just trying so desperately to hide it right now."

"So all the stuff about connecting emotionally with an old car was just a cover up?" Finn asked knowingly.

"Oh, that, no ... that's real enough, but the intensity is just a little over the top. So bear with her," Santana pleaded.

"I guess that explains a lot," Kurt said, feeling a bit more relieved. "We all cope differently." He jumped up. "Let's order something to eat. Tell me what you guys are up for."

"Brittney is a vegetarian now." Santana winked. "Just thought you wanted to know."

"So we are ordering vegetarian food?" Kurt stated with a sigh.

"Not for me," Santana chuckled. "I want a burger; a really greasy one."

"Thank god," Finn burst out. "I was getting really scared for a moment."

As soon as they had sat down to eat and Brittany was presented for a nice salad with baked beans, she clearly relaxed more and the conversation started to flow more effortlessly.

After dinner Rachel finally showed up. She had clearly made an effort, but nice clothes and neat make-up can never cover a pair of sad eyes.

When the table was cleared they were all finally ready to discuss the matter of Sam.

"I need to know how he is. I've been worrying sick," Santana said and played absentmindedly with her hair.

The three friends looked at at Kurt with growing tension.

"He is recovering physically," Kurt started. "His leg will be in a cast for a long time, but the bruises in his face are healing pretty well. But … emotionally, he's changed."

"Like how?" Brittany asked with a small voice.

Kurt searched for the right words based on what Blaine had told him. "He is really broken, and he is ashamed of himself; very cynical at times. He doesn't wanna talk to anyone except Blaine and his mother. They are both trying hard to make him accept Puck and Artie. But he refuse to deal with Mercedes under any circumstances. When it comes to the actual events that lead up to the attack we know very little. Sam will not talk about it."

"I feel so bad for Mercedes," Rachel said as the first one. "Just try to imagine how she must feel right now, knowing that her love is hurting so much and not being allowed to be there for him."

"I don't think any of us can understand what they are going through," Finn added. "But we don't have to understand in order to help. We'll just focus on whatever needs that can be met." He turned to Kurt with a determined expression. "Tell us what to do, Kurt."

"We have opened an account where everybody can donate money in order to cover Sam's debt. That's our top priority at the moment. Quinn will administer the account and you will receive further details on a text message later tonight." Kurt paused. "We have to raise about $25,000."

The silence around the table was profound.

"Then that's what we are going to do," Santana claimed calmly as Finn and Brittany nodded in agreement.

"What will happen when he is out of the hospital?" Rachel asked.

"He will be submitted to a rehab facility," Kurt answered. "Mercedes has found a quiet and highly recommended place in the outskirts of LA. Sam will move there during this weekend.

"Rehab for what?" Brittney asked with big sad eyes.

"Alcohol," Kurt explained.

"Sam has a problem with alcohol?" she asked confused.

"Yes, recently he has had."

"I cannot believe things are this bad," she replied with a rough voice, clearly trying to cope along the way.

"None of us can," Santana said, "but this is Sam's reality and this is what we're dealing with."

"I suggest that we work out some sort of schedule," Kurt said, eager moved on. "We need to make sure he gets as many visitors as possible throughout the next month. Blaine is beyond exhausted right now, so the main issue is to get Sam to accept more guests and then take turns; to visit him, to go to LA, to do whatever we can to help him back on his feet. We have to tell him that he is worth much more than a few bad choices."

"I'm not sure I can do this," Brittany said and wrapped her arms tightly around herself.

The three of them looked at her with bad hidden surprise.

"Why?" Santana asked.

"Well, as I explained, Jonas and I are travelling a lot … and there's Greenpeace and … other obligations," Brittany trailed off.

"It doesn't have to be for long; just a single visit," Santana said softly. "Whenever you can do it."

"Yes, but I'm not sure I can work it out," Brittney repeated determined.

Santana reached out and squeezed her arm. "You shouldn't worry, honey. We all find it difficult to talk to him and figure out what to say. But he needs us, and that includes you. You have been his girlfriend."

Tears started streaming down Brittany's face. "But I still don't know if I can do it. I cannot believe he is hurting this much."

"I think it's important that we all talk to him," Finn said. "And I will be happy to make a schedule, Kurt. I'll get in touch with everybody and make sure the next month is covered somehow."

"You can count on me, Finn," Rachel suddenly said. "I'm between rehearsals and would love to go."

A broad smile spread across Finn's face as he held eye contact with Rachel. "Great, me too."

Rachel smiled back. The first sincere smile that night.

Santana raised an eyebrow and side eyed Kurt.

Kurt shrugged subtle. He knew exactly what she was thinking, but he didn't know how to feel about it.

* * *

When everybody had left and Finn and Kurt was doing the dishes, Finn approached the subject himself.

"What's up with Rachel?" he asked and monitored Kurt's reaction closely.

Kurt decided to be honest. "She left Mark a couple of days ago. They were together for three years so the aftermath is a bit complicated."

Kurt saw the hope appear in Finn's eyes and his heart grew heavy. "Finn ... I wouldn't go there if I were you."

"I'm not going anywhere," Finn replied immediately.

"Okay…."

They worked in silence for awhile. "Just out of curiosity," Finn then said. "Why shouldn't I go there?"

Kurt dried his hands in the towel and looked at his brother. "It's always been so complicated between the two of you. And I would hate to see you guys get hurt again. She is still one of my best friends and you're my brother. I care about both of you, that's all."

The recognizable lopsided smile showed in Finn's face. "But that was then. This is now."

"I know."

"Well, I'm going to call her no matter what. I have this student that recently discovered that she is adopted; even though she was never meant to know. I think she needs to talk to somebody who really understands, and I thought of Rachel. What do you think?" Finn asked.

Kurt opened his mouth, about to point out how many support groups there had to be around Ohio, but something held him back. Who was he to decide if this was what Rachel needed or not?

"I think it's a great idea, Finn," he said instead.


	8. Nothing But A Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting a bit behind schedule but I hope I can keep up on posting twice a week. Now you're warned ;)

"Michelle, your words are slurring, you're standing at the wrong place and your overall performance lacks presence. How am I suppose to believe that Cordelia is dying?"

The harsh words were bellowed across the stage as Dubrovski crossed his arms. Kurt was sitting in the front row of the theater, following an increasingly frustrated Michelle on the stage, who didn't stand a chance of getting it right with the poor guidance the director offered her.

"I am really trying," the girl said and pressed her lips together. "I know Cordelia is dying, but I'm still focused on memorizing the lines and I'm standing exactly where you told me to stand."

Michelle would be in trouble, at least for the rest of the day. Dubrovski didn't like to be called out on his bad instructions. The lack of talent would always fall back to the actor.

Dubrovski pursed his lips and the silence spread around him like circles in quiet water. "I took a chance on you, Michelle," he said flatly. "Don't let me regret it. There are thousands of struggling actors out there who would give their right arm for an opportunity like this."

There it was again; the threats, always the threats.

"Let's do it again," Dubrovski said and turned his back to her.

For the next half an hour Dubrovski made the poor girl do the scene over and over again. And as anyone could have predicted the performance worsened for each time. Dubrovski didn't stop until Michelle was left in tears and it was time for lunch.

Kurt stepped closer to the stage as soon as Dubrovski was out of sight and Michelle walked to edge and sat down.

He felt for the poor girl. He was experienced enough on his own to let Dubrovski's silly demands roll off his back, but Michelle was only 19 and this was her first big production. "Don't let him see you cry," Kurt said. "He's not worth any of your tears."

"I'm not crying," she claimed and dried away a tear with a quick swipe. "But I'm so _mad_ at him that I could explode."

Kurt made a quick decision and reached out his hand. "You're having lunch with me and Charleen today," he said, not even asking if she was free. "We need to talk."

She took his hand and jumped down from the stage without hesitation. Kurt led her across the street to a little diner where he would usually meet up with Charleen during lunch hour. They had teamed up to make sure everybody was looked after and to make the production happen despite Dubrovski's incompetent way of running things.

Now Michelle was slouching in the chair between them. "I know I'm not an experienced actor, I'm a singer. And I know I've never been to Juliard or NYADA. So maybe he's right. Maybe it was stupid to take a chance on me."

"Hey what happened to _I'm so mad I could explode_?" Kurt asked. "I liked that attitude a lot better."

"I'm not good at this, Kurt. It's really sweet of you to try to pick me up, but rehearsals have barely started and I don't think I can cope with this for the next six weeks. And let's not forget about reviews once we hit opening night. They'll eat me alive."

Kurt stopped her. "Listen to me. You are going to be a great Cordelia. You have the potential all the way through. But to expect you to be there already, five days into the production, is out of proportion."

"But that's exactly what he does, Dusnobski," Michelle complained loudly.

Kurt couldn't hold a smile back. He had heard the directors nickname used more than once this week.

"One of these days somebody's going to call him Dusnobski when he's around," Charleen warned before she took a big bite of her sandwich.

"What's the easiest part of playing Cordelia?" Kurt asked, pretty sure he already knew the answer.

"Her sparkly side," Michelle replied right away. "When she's driven and happy I feel connected to her. But when she goes all sad and gloomy, she slips away."

"Saying she is "gloomy" because she know she's dying reveals a lot about how you perceive her," Kurt said thoughtful. "You have to make her softer side believable. And if _you_ don't believe in that side of her character the audience is never going to believe it either."

"Then tell me how to believe in her," Michelle exclaimed frustrated.

"You obviously don't know enough about her," Kurt said and picked up his phone. "I'm going to give you the phone number for a very dear friend of mine. Her name is Rose and she was the first one to play Cordelia. Call her. She will love to help you and she knows Cordelia better than anyone."

Michelle let her shoulder fall. "Really? That would help me so much, Kurt."

Kurt smiled and made a forward request on his phone. "She's on maternity leave and I know for a fact that she needs the distraction."

Michelle tackle hugged him "Thank you, Kurt, you are such a sweetheart."

"You're welcome," he said and patted her awkwardly on her back, completely overwhelmed by her reaction.

"If you need extra time with Rose I can try to flex the rehearsal plan. Then you can leave a bit earlier a couple of days next week," Charleen injected, trying to save Kurt.

Michelle got up. "I'll give Rose a call right away, then I'll get back to you," she said to Charleen with a smile before she disappeared.

"I didn't know you could juggle the rehearsal plan," Kurt said and started eating.

"Well, I can't juggle yours," Charleen explained. "That one is a no go. Dubrovski would throw a fit."

"Does that mean your hands are tied when it comes to the Saturday rehearsal tomorrow?" Kurt asked.

The blond girl looked miserable. "It's actually just you, Michelle and The Evil Four who's on call tomorrow. The rest of us have the weekend off just like we're suppose to."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Kurt sighed and pushed his plate away. Building up an appetite was hard under these circumstances. "I think Dubrovski's hidden agenda is to prevent me from going to LA."

Charleen shifted uncomfortably in her chair "A week ago I would have disagreed," she said with a frown. "Even though Dubrovski can be ridiculous and unreasonable I thought even he had some integrity.

"But now?" Kurt inquested.

"It's very personal this time Kurt," she said. "I mean, he was no picnic on the first production, but it was not nearly as complicated or calculated as this. He just dictated a lot of things and as long as you didn't question his guidelines or his overall superiority things would be fine. Now he seems almost mean."

"Did you know I was half an hour late yesterday?" Kurt asked carefully.

"Ouch."

"I recieved a text saying rehearsal was pushed for 30 minutes. The funny thing is that I was the only one who had gotten that particular message and I was treated like shit for the rest of the day for breaking one of the golden rules. I was called the most disrespectful actor he had ever been forced to work with."

Charleen looked at him with a horrored expression as his statement settled. "I cannot believe he would do such a lousy thing," she said. All her diplomacy disappeared like dewfall in the sun and her eyes were lightening. "Kurt we have to do something about this. It's ridiculous. You know if Stevenson really got the news of this he would fire the moron. All it takes is a complaint."

"Sooner or later he'll make a mistake," Kurt said, more calmly than he felt; "And then it will work to our advantage that we haven't done anything stupid."

Charleen pushed strands of hair back around her ears. "Then tell me what to do, Kurt.; anything. And I'll help you."

"Just keep me updated if there are changes to the schedules. I'll only trust information that comes directly from you."

"Sure," she said and looked back at him with a determined mind.

"And there's another thing," Kurt said as he got ready to leave. "Could you tell one of your dancers, Victor I believe, that I am _very_ taken? He is trying really hard to get my attention and it's getting awkward."

"Oh, he knows you're with Blaine," Charleen said apologetically. "But such a detail has never stopped Victor before I'm afraid."

"Great," Kurt moaned. "Just what I need on top of Dubrovski."

He pushed his chair back to the table and was about to leave when he turned to Charleen again.

"There is one more thing, right," she said knowingly.

"Yes, there actually is," he added as a spark hit his eyes. "Make sure Santana brings you the next time she wants to visit Blaine and me."

Charleen couldn't hide a huge grin. "I will, Kurt."

* * *

Blaine drove to the hospital with a very determined mind. Today was Friday and tomorrow Sam was checking in to Vineyard Recreation Center in West LA. But before the transfer he had to bring Sam and Mercedes back together. No matter how much Sam had needed Blaine the past week it was time to spread the burden to more shoulders. Blaine was stretched to his limits and needed a break. He had not put it in so many words on the phone but he had been devastated that Kurt couldn't come this weekend. It would have made all the difference.

He braved up as he parked his rental at the hospital parking lot, hoping it would be the last time he would be here. He knew the different nurses on the unit and they had done everything they could for Sam, Blaine and Mrs. Evans. As for now, with Sam's family back in San Francisco Blaine felt all alone. Puck and Artie had visited Sam shortly last night, but Sam didn't trust them enough yet.

He turned the corner and said hi to the nurse at the counter. He poured a cup of coffee and side eyed her. "So how is he today?" he asked.

"Defensive and grumpy," she replied with a tired smile. "I think it just dawned on him that he is going to be on crutches for a very long time, and today we forced him to practice down the hallway. That certainly rubbed him the wrong way."

"Great," Blaine mumbled and took a gulp of coffee. "I better finish this up before I enter the lion's cage then."

"Might be a good idea," she said with a smirk. "Who will be here to pick him up tomorrow?"

"That's yet to be determined, but I hope his girlfriend will be one of them." Blaine drank the rest of the coffee as he planned out a tactic. Then he poured another cup of coffee and refilled his own cup. "Wish me luck," he said with raised eyebrows.

"Good luck, Blaine," the nurse said and waved at him.

Sam was sitting by the window, staring into nothingness with his casted leg resting on a chair.

Blaine stopped in the doorway, just like he had done the first day at the hospital. "I hardly recognized you out of bed," he said lightly.

"I might as well jump right back into bed anyway," Sam stated. "It's impossible to get around with this dead weight attached to my leg."

Blaine walked closer and positioned himself in front of the window to block Sam's view that didn't bring anything good right now. "Sam, you're suffering from depression, you're not going to stay this way forever and neither is your leg."

"How can you know?" Sam fumed.

"I just know. And the best thing you can do right now is to believe I'm right."

Sam chose to close his eyes. He was obviously determined to run away from things today.

"Buddy, it's time to see Mercedes, don't you think?" Blaine said relaxed as if he was talking about the weather.

"I can't do that, Blaine. I've already told you," Sam said annoyed.

"Can you please open your eyes, Sam, this is important," Blaine said politely.

Sam narrowed in on him with a warning look.

"Why, Sam?" Blaine asked. "Why can't you just talk to her? See what she has to say."

"Isn't it obvious. She deserves someone better than me, that's why," Sam said angry. "If I was her I would run away as fast as I could and never look back."

"You know it doesn't work like that, right?"

"But it could," Sam claimed edgy, "if you told her to leave me alone, she would. If you told her that she and I are never going to happen she would believe you."

Blaine crossed his arms. "Well, I'm not going to tell her that."

"Why not?" Sam asked upset. He clearly felt pushed on the subject.

"Because that doesn't solve anything. She loves you and I _know_ you love her. And please take it from someone who knows; running away isn't the way to deal with things."

"Blaine, your situation with Kurt cannot be compared to what I'm going through right now. This is a lot worse and I have done things that Mercedes should never be forced to deal with. I love her too much to drag her into this. Why, of all people, don't you understand that. I thought I could count on you. I thought you were on _my_ side, but when you ask me about Mercedes you're not!"

Blaine knew he couldn't hold Sam responsible for his actions and feelings right now, but he was not just fighting for Sam, he was fighting for Mercedes too. Sam hadn't been the one drying away the girls tears because she was heartbroken. He hadn't been the one hearing her sobbing from the room next door, or the one seeing her puffy eyes in the morning as she tried to come around and pretend she was alright.

"Sam, it's time for some truth talk," Blaine said and started pacing the room as Sam followed his every move. "I know you're not healed yet, but things need to be said. You are pushing people away who are here to help you. Mercedes offers you love and support, unconditionally. She doesn't care about the things you've done. She is just asking for permission to love you back. You have been in love with her forever. Sometimes from a distance, but I know she has always been in the corner of your heart. You have lived here in LA for one and a half years because you wanted to be close to her. You wanted to be here for her, whenever she needed you. You are offering help so freely, Sam, but now it's time to accept the help and the compassion offered to you." Blaine had raised his voice as he was speaking, without really noticing.

"I CAN'T DO IT!" Sam shouted in frustration and anger. "I _can't_ do it, and I _won't_!"

Blaine stepped closer with fire in his eyes. "Do you know what will happen if you abandon her now?" he asked intensely. "You might succeed in pushing her away, but she will NEVER forget you. And every relationship she will ever enter, will be broken eventually because you didn't give her closure or gave her a chance to show you just how much she loves you. That's what will happen!"

Sam blinked through teary eyes with a panting chest. The silence rose like a wall between them, uncomfortable and unsettling. But Blaine was determined to wait for Sam's next move. And it came sooner than he had expected.

"But she deserves someone better than me," Sam whispered from a place of hurt more than anger.

Blaine got down on his knees in front of his friend. "Shouldn't she be the judge of that?" he asked beggingly. "I'm sure she can make a decision of her own. You don't have to make it for her."

"I miss her so much," Sam breathed out, and Blaine knew he had won the battle.

"Then let me call her. She can be here in ten minutes, and I promise you, she won't leave your side."

Blaine could literally see the fortress fall, brick by brick until a broken Sam appeared in front of him.

"A love as big as yours and Mercedes can cope with far more than this, Sam. And it is with her like it is with everybody else around you, you have to learn to trust her again."

Sam dried his eyes and a deep sigh left his chest.

"Can I call her?" Blaine asked gently.

Sam nodded. "But I think I need to sleep now. I'm exhausted."

"Well, that's okay," Blaine said and got up again, secretly jumping up and down inside of joy. "I'll tell her to be here in an hour."

Sam nodded and fought to get up with the crutches wobbling under his arms. "I hope I'll get the hang of this eventually," he mumbled, with cheeks still wet after the tears.

"You will," Blaine said with an encouraging smile. "You'll get the hang of everything. I promise."

* * *

Mercedes' heart was racing in her chest and her mouth kept drying out. She took small sips of water and muttered calming, positive statements to herself as she walked down the hospital hallway. Blaine met her halfway.

Mercedes hugged him with shaky breaths. "Do you think he just agreed to this to break up with me and tell me to never come back?" she asked. She was desperate for Blaine's honest opinion and at the same time she dreaded it.

"He will not turn you down, Cedes," Blaine answered. "I cannot speak for the future or what will happen with you guys from here. But as for now he needs you and he realized that he had to give you a chance."

A sigh of relief left Mercedes body. "How am I ever supposed to thank you?"

"You have given me so much this week," Blaine answered emotionally. "This is what I can give you."

"I love you, Blaine," Mercedes stated and looked into the warm gaze.

"I love you too," Blaine said and pulled her in for another hug. "And I promise you that from now on Kurt and I will keep you and Sam closer in our lives."

"I'd love that."

"Now, go in and talk to him," Blaine said. "I'll go back to your place and if you need me, you just call. But I don't expect to hear from you any time soon." He winked and left her in the hallway.

When she tip toed into Sam's room, he was lying in bed, sound asleep and curled into a ball almost holding himself, as if he was afraid someone would attack him.

The sight alone brought tears to her eyes. He looked so fragile; her happy, cheerful, beautiful Sam, who had taught her to treat all people equal. Sam, who had believed in her when she didn't even believe in herself.

She prayed in silence, asking God for wisdom to help Sam the best way possible; to give her the right things to say to him and to truly understand his heartache. Then she dried the tears away and sat down on the chair next to Sam's bed. She reached out and touched his warm hand, caressing him with a withheld breath. He tightened the grip between them in his sleep before he suddenly jerked up, fully awake and embarrassed by his actions.

She gave him a cautious smile, not sure what to expect until he relaxed and dropped his head down on the pillow again. His eyes narrowed in on her, still empty, but not as much as she recalled them to be a week ago. He was still holding on to her hand.

"You came," he stated with a rough voice.

"And you thought I wouldn't?" Mercedes asked quietly.

"I don't know what to think anymore, Cedes, and I didn't expect you to …"

"To what?"

Sam closed his eyes, internalizing his pain. "You feel sorry for me, don't you?" he huffed out.

"I _love_ you, Sam, and it hurts me to see you like this," she said and got up to be closer. She was not going to let him slip away. "But what I feel for you have nothing to do with pity, if that's what you're aiming at."

"But how can you love me?"

It was not an unreasonable question, and Mercedes knew that Sam wasn't trying to make her say things she didn't mean; but it still hurt so much because he asked out of self hate and resentment.

She decided to turn it around. "How can I _not_ love you?" she asked softly. "Even if I told myself that _we_ couldn't happen, my heart would never listen. I'm not a girl who compromises and I'm passionate about the things that I do. That's how I live and that's how I love. You have been here in LA for one and a half years and even though you may never admit it, you have been here for me. I'm not here for just a moment, Sam, or a couple of years. You're the love of my life. I want to be with you forever. And you still ask me how I can love you?"

The tears were streaming down Sam's face by those words. "But you don't know what I have done."

"I don't care, Sam," she said and dried his tears away with her hands. This is now - in a span of a lifetime this will be nothing but a moment, like a painful breath, easily exhaled and then it will be gone. You are so much more than this moment, baby."

Sam moved aside on the bed and pulled lightly in her hand, prompting her to come closer. She carefully climbed up next to him, pretty sure they wouldn't both fit in the single bed. But as he pulled her into his arms and held her tight, she could feel herself melt into his embrace; and right there, she fit perfectly.

"Can you forgive me, Cedes?" he asked her, barely audible. "And don't say that it doesn't matter or that I shouldn't ask for forgiveness. I need to hear you say it." He cupped her cheek with his hand, looking desperately for release and peace of mind in her brown eyes.

"I forgive you, Sam," she said and held his stare. "I forgive you."

And with those simple words she caught a glimpse of the Sam she used to know, buried in the unhappiness and hopelessness, he was still there, somewhere.

"I missed you," he whispered and kissed her black hair. "I've missed you so, so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you Wednesday with a bit of a cliffhanger ;)


	9. Rules Of Fashion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glee is back! What a bliss :D
> 
> This chapter is not beta'ed yet, which means there could be mistakes ;)
> 
> Hope you will enjoy this one because Kurt is going into full force fashion mode.

Saturday came with all it's emptiness and waste of time. Kurt barely managed to drag himself down to the theater and with the prospect of nothing exciting happening all day and an evening spent alone in the apartment he was hopelessly trapped in a funk.

As predicted by Charleen only 6 actors were called in for rehearsal; The Evil Four, Michelle and Kurt. That decision alone set off the alarm clocks in Kurt, because Coalan and Cordelia didn't interact directly with The Evil Four. But once more logic was not considered important in the war Dubrowski had started. His true agenda was, without the shadow of doubt, to remind Kurt who was in charge. Unfortunately Michelle was forced to pay the prize as well and there was not much Kurt could do about it. While Dubrowski worked with The Evil Four they were left in the front row of the theater with nothing to do. After awhile they started a whispering conversation as the went through the script. Kurt pointed out passages in the dialogue where Michelle had to be extra careful to convey the nature of Cordelia. Michelle scribbled little notes and remarks down in the margin and nodded eagerly now and then. She had made an appointment with Rose the following week, but for now this was her rescue.

Now and then Dubrowski glared their way as he ran a hand over his beard. Kurt was pretty sure he made an effort to hear what they were talking about, but he refused to give him the satisfaction and he made sure they were really quiet.

Suddenly Dubrowski exploded and with crossed arms and brows furrowed into a monster look alike he barked from the stage. "I see the two of you are enjoying coming in here on a Saturday to the extend where you're completely disrespectful for other peoples time. How are we supposed to concentrate up here with the two of you gossiping like high school teenage girls too stupid to understand that they are NOT the center of the world."

Kurt could practically feel Michelle's anxiety radiate from the seat next to him which made him meet the directors stare provokingly calm. "Oh, we're just discussing some of Michelle's scenes. She had the impression that you weren't quite satisfied with her take on Cordelia."

"I see," Dubrowski hissed. "Does that mean you all of sudden have become director of this play? Because last time I checked you were an actor. And in my world actors are not hired to question the dírectors call, they are hired to act. And maybe that's Michelle's biggest problem as well as yours."

Kurt honestly didn't care about all the stupidity Dubrowski threw his way. He would even consider it a victory to have the moron lose his temper. But Michelle deserved to be treated differently.

"With all due respect, sir, we have been sitting here for two hours doing absolutely nothing. I don't see the crime in being useful with our time, that for the record is just as precious as yours."

That remark earned Michelle and Kurt another hour off the stage.

Right before lunch Kurt's phone buzzed, deeply buried in his pocket. He decided to tiptoe out backstage even though he wasn't allowed to leave. Dubrowski could scream all he wanted. Kurt would simply claim it was an extremely important conversation no matter who the caller was. It could be a saleman for all he cared as long as somebody was distracting him from this nightmare.

He secretly hoped it was Blaine, of course, but when he heard Joyce's sweet voice chiming in his ear, he forgave her right away.

Joyce and Kevin had come tumbling in to Blaine and Kurt's life last year when Kevin had been Blaine's piano student. Blaine wasn't teaching any more but Kevin had stolen both their hearts and since his dad was dead they had been lucky enough to get a special place in the teen year old boy's heart as well.

"Kurt, I'm having a fashion emergency. I really, really need you help!" Joyce burst out, not wasting time on small talk.

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, "but what's the rush, honey?"

"I have a date, Kurt, and he is really sweet, and I just want everything to be perfect. And I haven't done this dating thing in … gosh … um a very long time. I know I shouldn't be nervous because what's the worse thing that can happen, right? I mean he must be interested in me if he ask me out. But I'm freaking out anyway, which is so typical me … and I just …" She exhaled shakily. "Kurt, can you please make me perfect?"

"Wow," Kurt said and tried to hide his amusement. "He really must be something special if he can freak you out like that, Joyce. You're always so calm and collected."

"No, no, no, I'm never calm and collected, hon, I'm just faking it. But I can't fake this one and it scares the shit out of me. Sorry."

"Hm … first things first. You're already perfect, Joyce, and I can't believe nobody's asked you out until now. When are you going?" Kurt asked.

"Tonight," Joyce answered with a small voice.

"TONIGHT? Oh my god, Joyce, couldn't you have given me some more time to level with here?" Kurt said shocked.

"I know, I know, Kurt, it's so stupid. He asked me three days ago. And I just thought I would wear something nice from my closet, you know. But then I tried on practically everything I own this morning, and suddenly nothing felt right … AT ALL … and now I don't know what to do!"

Kurt's fashion rescue mode kicked in full force and he didn't miss a beat. "When was the last time you bought a beautiful dress for yourself, Joyce? And you better be honest."

Joyce went quiet. "Um, oh my god, my last dress was … black, it was for my husband's funeral," she trailed off.

"So you haven't bought a dress for three years? How am I supposed to save you here?" Kurt scolded.

"I'm hopeless, I know. But don't you see, that's why I'm calling you. I clearly suck at this," she laughed, complete untouched by his shock. "So will you help me?"

"Of course I will help you, but we have to move fast," he said and checked up on time. "I only got one hour lunch break, and I mean _one_ hour exactly or else I'll be in trouble. Can you meet me here at theater in ten minutes?"

"I can do whatever you ask me to do," Joyce said. "I'm leaving right away."

* * *

The moment Kurt left the theater, Joyce stood waiting for him, panting and red cheeked. "You are saving my day," she gasped and grabbed his elbow as they started walking.

"I think you're saving mine too," Kurt said happily. "This could very well be the highlight of my Saturday."

"Wow, then I feel sorry for you. Is Blaine busy?"

"He's in LA, but I hope he'll be back soon. He'll be so excited to hear that you have a date."

"I know," Joyce said and massured her steps to Kurt's. "He was ready to give up on me. So where do we go?"

"Two blocks away they have this amazing store. Carol always go there when she and my dad are visiting. But don't worry, they'll have something for younger women, too."

"I don't even know what my style is anymore," Joyce confessed, "or what colors to wear. I used to be interested in fashion before I got Kevin, but then it kind of slipped away."

"Well, you're a very classic girl which means that there would be lot of obvious and predictable choices. But I think we need something a bit more out there. You should be proud of being a New Yorker girl."

"You're already making me nervous. I don't feel like a fashionable New Yorker girl. I feel like a … mom."

"Then we'll make you a fashionable mom. And don't be nervous. This is supposed to be exciting and magical."

After a good ten minutes walk they entered the store Kurt had had in mind and with squinting eyes he scanned the different sections of clothes, looking for something that would match the pictures he had in his head.

It didn't take him long to pick out three different dresses. They were all cut just above the knee and accentuating the waistline. The first one was moonstone blue with a very beautiful asymmetric neckline that gave it an exquisite look. The second one had a much lighter expression with a graphic pattern in emerald green. This one would require very simple accessories in order to work, but Kurt knew Joyce could pull it through. The last dress was maroon with drapings on the top, a V neckline and laced sleeves. They were all beautiful in different ways, now it was more a matter of fitting and the best overall expression.

He handed Joyce the three dresses with a satisfied nod. "One of these will do."

She held out the dresses and examined them one by one. "Well it's not what I would have picked on my own, but they are really beautiful."

Kurt tilted his head. "Let me guess, you would have ended up with another black dress."

Joyce bit her lip, embarrassed that she was so easy to read. "I will rest my case. But we need to find them in size 10. I've always used size 10."

"But you're a size 8," Kurt stated with a raised eyebrow.

"No, no, this will be too clingy and I will be all subconscious about ... you know."

"About what?" Kurt asked challenging.

"About my ... belly," she mouthed.

Kurt looked onto Joyce's blueish eyes. He enjoyed telling this amazing woman how gorgeous she really was. "Listen to me Joyce," he started. "You brought me here for a reason. I know about fashion and how things are tailored, and you have to trust me. You're a size 8, spot on, and you don't have to worry about your belly for a split second. You have a very beautiful body and it's about time you show it. I know you've had a tough time and that your main concerns have been Kevin. But look at the little guy, he's fine. Now it's about time that you start to enjoy life and believe that you have something to offer."

Joyce' eyes widened by Kurt's bold statements. "Okay," she replied with a small voice. "I'll just … go and try these on."

Kurt hid a smile as she disappeared to change. Whoever was taking her out to dinner tonight was a lucky guy. If it turned out to be a lasting thing he and Blaine would have to invite them over, just to make sure that he was good enough for Joyce and Kevin. He picked up his phone and called Blaine while he was waiting.

"Hey, baby," Blaine said as soon as he picked up.

Kurt could literally feel his face light up the entire store. "I was thinking about you and I just needed to hear your voice," he purred and walked through the stands as he absentmindedly let his fingers run over the hangers _._

Blaine hummed. "Does that mean that you miss me?"

"You have _no_ idea."

"I miss you too."

"What are you up for today?" Kurt asked.

"As this is my first day without visiting Sam since I got here I decided to do a little sightseeing and some shopping. And then Artie's taking me to a concert later tonight."

"Sounds better than my day," Kurt stated dryly.

"Aw, I'm sorry."

"Oh guess where I am right now?" Kurt asked excited.

"Um … at the theater having the time of your life."

"Now aren't you funny. No I'm out shopping with Joyce. She is going on a date tonight."

"I KNEW it!" Blaine burst out. "I _knew_ something was going on."

"How?" Kurt laughed.

Blaine was getting eager now. "Kevin told me last week that his mom was suddenly singing and smiling all the time and he thought it was really weird."

"Mystery solved I guess."

"Wow, this is huge, Kurt. I've told her for ages that it was about time to start dating again. Promise me you'll find something over the top for her to wear. She is going to knock out that guy. Oh and he better be nice."

"I've got her covered," Kurt said reassuring. "She is trying on three different dresses as we speak."

"I wish I was there," Blaine complained. "You have to send me pictures."

"You know what, if you give me a couple of minutes I'll text you the photos. Then you can tell me what you think. Just remember that I'm having the final call."

"Great," Blaine said happily. "I'm anxiously waiting."

Joyce stepped out of the dressing room in the first dress just as Kurt was hanging up. It was the blue one; very simple tailored in straight refined lines, but wrapped perfectly around her body. She looked at him hesitantly and then she took a peek in the huge mirror, hanging on the wall.

"What do you think?" Kurt asked excited.

"It looks … amazing," Joyce said surprised. "It's a size 8 and it looks … amazing."

"I told you it would."

"Oh my god, Kurt. I will never question your choices in clothes ever again."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"You can get that anyway you want to as long as you help me pick my dresses from now on," she replied giddily.

Kurt laughed and decided not to mention the suggestiveness in her phrase. He held up his phone. "Okay, I promised Blaine to take a picture of the different dresses, so it's time to say cheese."

"What, no wait." Joyce said horrified and ran a frantic hand through her dark hair. Then she licked her lips, took a straight up and down pose and shot Kurt a flustered smile.

Kurt lowered his phone slowly. "Joyce, I'm going to need something more sexy than that. You're going on a date. You're not about to get fired."

"I'm not good at sexy, Kurt. Sexy is … a lot to ask from a woman who hasn't dated for like … a trazillion years."

Kurt tilted his head and smiled gently. "Have you ever really seen yourself, Joyce?"

Joyce looked confused. "Of course I have, but I'm not really good at stuff like this, Kurt."

"But it's easy," he said and walked to her. "Try to put your hand on your hip, one foot in front of the other and then twist your body a bit." Joyce followed his orders with a very determined expression on her face. "How does that feel?" he asked.

"This is okay, actually," she replied and started to relax in the pose.

"Great." Kurt stepped back again and waited for the right smile before he tapped the camera icon. He took a couple of pictures from different angles and chose the best one to send to Blaine.

"What do you think?" he asked and turned his phone for her to see.

Her eyes grew big and her jaw dropped slightly. "Wow … I mean, I know I'm not supposed to say that about my own picture … but, well, wow."

"You _are_ wow."

Joyce beamed at him. "Thank you, Kurt, for all of this."

"It's my pleasure, Joyce. I'll text this one to Blaine and then you go try on the next dress."

With all three dresses being photographed and texted across the country, Kurt knew he had a favorite. Now he just wanted Blaine's opinion, so he called him again as Joyce was twirling in the last dress.

"What's the verdict Mr. Anderson." Kurt said, smiling widely as he searched for accessories.

"Oh, I definitely like you the best," Blaine sighed longingly.

Kurt turned around to walk away from Joyce. "I mean the dresses, honey, you have to stay focused for me."

"Oh, you're right, you're right. I um … I don't think I can make a decision until you say you love me."

Kurt shut his eyes tight. "Blaine, I'm in a store, people can hear me," he whispered frantically.

"I need to hear it and then you can have my honest opinion about the dresses. Pleeease."

"You're pouting right now, aren't you?" Kurt asked.

"I certainly am."

Kurt took a deep breath. "Okay, okay." He could already feel his cheek burning. What he didn't do for that man. "Blaine Devon Anderson, I love you like crazy, I always have and I always will."

"Really?"

Kurt could hear the huge smile in Blaine's voice. "Yes, really," he repeated and felt his heart leap with joy. He caught a glimpse of Joyce standing with her back to him, hugging herself as she simulated a heavy make out session with waggling hips. "Oh my god, you are NOT going to believe how much Joyce is mocking me right now. You don't think she has it in her, but then she surprises you out of nowhere."

Joyce fell apart in a giggle attack and the sales manager hid a smile on her own.

Kurt covered his eyes. "Blaine, honey, I need to know what dress you pick; things are getting majorly embarrassing around here."

Blaine laughed. "I'll go with the maroon one, and then give Joyce a kiss from me."

Kurt rolled his eyes as he secretly celebrated that Blaine had picked right. "You should go with the maroon dress," he said to Joyce, who was trying to pull herself together again.

"So, not the blue one?"

"The blue one is too classic and secure for a first date, and the green one is a bit too much. The maroon is just perfect. It draws attention and it's a bold choice without trying too hard."

Joyce nodded in understanding. "Can I buy the the blue one too?"

"You can buy whatever you want, honey. It's your money."

Joyce put a finger to her mouth as she evaluated her options. "Okay, so let me get this right. The blue dress could be for a job interview or a parents teacher meeting?"

"It would be great for a job interview. If you wear it for a school meeting I'm sure you can get Kevin off the hook if he's in trouble."

"Kurt, you are … bold today. I'll give you that much," Joyce smirked.

Kurt shrugged innocently. "So, who are looking after Kevin tonight?" he asked, watching the time closely. He had to be back at the theater in ten minutes.

"His aunt. And he is _not_ thrilled!"

Kurt lit up. "Why don't you drop him off at my place. I'll be happy to spent some time with him. It's been awhile since he visited us the last time."

"Is that alright with you," Joyce asked frowning. "You must have better things to do on a Saturday night."

"I haven't, remember?" Kurt said dryly. "And if I already had plans, I would have cancelled it for Kevin anyway."

Joyce stood on her toes and kissed Kurt on the cheek. "He is going to be thrilled when I tell him. Now go so you won't be late. I owe you big time for this."

* * *

Blaine had a blast with Artie!

They skipped the concert once it turned out that Artie couldn't get in with his wheelchair. Instead they ended up at a perfect little piano bar downtown. After a beer Blaine couldn't keep away from the shiny black and white keys that were practically begging him to play. Artie joined him with a huge grin and before they knew it an audience circled them and encouraged an impromptu, unplugged concert.

Music was a healing power and Blaine felt how life and renewed energy ran through his veins faster and faster for each duet they pulled off. He loved performing with the band but this was so freeing. Nobody knew him and nobody expected more from him than what he was willing to give at this moment.

The apartment was empty when he got back later in the evening. Mercedes and Quinn were staying at a spa and wellness hotel close to Sam's rehab center and Mercedes wouldn't be home until Sunday night. The silence around him was a bliss. He needed time on his own right now just to make his soul keep up with the hectic pace in his life. But at the same time the quietness revealed the emptiness that the absence of Kurt was leaving deep inside of him.

He went to bed around midnight and for once sleep came easily. So much weight had been lifted off of his shoulders after the reunion between Sam and Mercedes and it felt good to finally drift away more relaxed than he'd been in a very long time.

When the phone suddenly rang persistently and without mercy it was pitch black around him. He was dizzy and confused when he answered, unsure if he had slept for one hour or three. He halfway expected to hear Kurt's melodic voice, when a stranger talked to him instead.

"Mr. Anderson, I have some information for you that I think you might find interesting."

"Who is this?" Blaine asked, trying to clear his mind as he sat up straight and turned on the light at the bed stand.

"You don't need to know who I am and I will make this very short," the voice said. "While you have been supporting a friend in LA, Kurt has been seeing his ex-boyfriend in New York. And if you confront him about it, he will probably deny it and lie to your face."

Then the line went flat.

Blaine dropped the phone on the bed, trying to make sense of the strange call. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. _While you have been supporting a friend in LA Kurt has been seeing his ex-boyfriend in New York._

It was beyond stupid, really. Kurt would never do something like that to him. It had to be a sick prank. He walked out to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water as an unsettling feeling stirred somewhere deep in his gut.

He was positive that he didn't know the caller, but how did this stranger know his phone number and what did he know about Kurt and his past with Benjamin? Blaine frowned. The guy even knew that he was in LA "supporting a friend".

He closed his eyes and tried to connect the dots when his heart suddenly picked up pace and a terrible thought hit him. Could the call be connected to Sam somehow? A warning from Joseph perhaps? Just to tell them that the activity around Sam was being monitored. He had to tell Kurt; tell him to look out for anything suspicious. He was probably asleep but this could turn out to be important.

He was just about to hit speed dial to Kurt, when a text came through with a picture attached. First he didn't know what to make of the image as if his brain struggled to comprehend it and process it. Then all blood drained from his face and his mouth dried out. Right there, on the display, was a picture of Kurt and Benjamin, looking anything but innocent. It was taken in broad daylight on a street close to the theater where Kurt was working. Benjamin had a hand on Kurt's shoulder and Kurt's arm was resting half way around Benjamin's waist. They were both smiling, maybe even laughing at something.

Blaine searched frantically after an explanation, something that would make room for logic or common sense. Maybe the picture was manipulated somehow or it could be old. If it was more than a year old Kurt would still have been engaged to Benjamin.

He zoomed in with swiping fingers, scrutinizing every detail. It didn't look like a manip though. Their bodies were too connected and his theory about the picture being old was shattered when he realized there was no ring on Kurt's finger; and that the coat he was wearing, was bought only a month ago. He had been so proud of that coat, purchased for a bargain through his contacts in Vogue.

A desperate sound escaped Blaine's throat. There had to be a catch somehow. But as the minutes slowly ticked by every explanation he could think of vanished before his eyes.

His finger hovered over the speed dial to Kurt once more when he suddenly started shaking, and doubt found a crack in his heart. What if this was the truth? What if Kurt was really seeing Benjamin behind his back? The caller had said that Kurt would deny it. Was he honestly ready to call Kurt and hear hesitation in his voice?

The thought alone shook him to the core as he tossed his phone away and blinked the streaming tears away from his blurred sight. Everything inside of him screamed that it couldn't be the truth. He knew Kurt better than that. He saw nothing but love in the blue eyes, from the moment they woke up till they fell asleep in each others arms. But didn't the picture show the same look in Kurt's eyes, right there on the street, or was he just losing his mind completely?

Blaine started pacing the floor as a huge hole grew inside of him. The darkness around him and the fatigue played with his perception of things and threw him back and forth.

What if?

What if Kurt wasn't as happy in their relationship as Blaine was?

What if he wasn't satisfied enough or challenged enough? Blaine could be so oblivious at times and it wasn't impossible that he had missed some signs that he should have seen.

And what if Kurt would deny everything?

He obviously didn't know about the picture, which meant the Blaine would know if he was lying. And would Blaine ever be able to trust him again if that was the case? Or would he be suspicious of every little detail that could indicate this nightmare to be real? Would he be one of those freaks who'd go through his boyfriends phone or e-mails? He and Kurt weren't like that, but who knew what he would become like if he felt he couldn't trust the one he loved the most.

For three hours Blaine was spiraling into an abyss of darkness that threatened to consume him and keep him there, too afraid to do the simplest thing of all; to call Kurt and talk to him. They talked about everything now, even the hardest things. But whenever Blaine looked at the picture he got paralyzed with fear.

At four in the morning he couldn't stand it anymore. Kurt could still be sleeping, but that would only be an advantage. Then he wouldn't have the time to make up something that wasn't true.

Blaine sat down on the edge of the bed and captured his own shattered stare in the mirror as he finally made the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you hate me right now but this is important - and it will be worth it.
> 
> Next chapter will be my favorite so far ;)
> 
> Please review.


	10. Can I Just Stay Here

Kurt was up early Sunday morning. To be lazy in bed all alone was depressing and his morning boner was a waste of time without Blaine's warm body wrapped around him. So here he was, seated at the dinner table, trying to attack passages of dialogue to their upcoming musical. He would have given the world to meet up in a bootcamp with Blaine and Ally tomorrow instead of bearing another minute in the presence of Dubrowski's condescending face.

He sighed as he slowly started typing words and sentences with hesitant fingers hovering over the keys, hoping what he wrote would make sense in the bigger picture. After two cups of strong coffee the muse finally kicked in and offered some much appreciated help; and a funny wording between two homeless guys appeared, sarcastic and dry as they bickered about who should do the dishes after their non existing dinner and vacuum their cardboard floor.

Kurt chuckled to himself and left the scene to the characters, who now had a mind of their own and just told him what to write. The new musical would be entirely different from "Cordelia". They were aiming for a "Rocky Horror Story" kind of thing with various colorful characters stirring up the New York underground, where all the freaks and unplaceable people reigned.

When Blaine called there was still a smirk on Kurt's face caused by the last line he had written. "Morning, love. You're up early," he said cheerful, "or late. I'm not sure which one it is."

"Yeah, I've barely slept, actually," Blaine said quietly.

Kurt froze instantly by the sound of his wounded voice. Something was terribly wrong. "Are you okay, baby?" he asked with racing heartbeat and got up from the chair. "Has something happened to Sam?"

"No, no, Sam is alright." Blaine went silent and his uneven breath made everything cringe inside of Kurt.

"Blaine, what is happening, baby? Why are you falling apart? Talk to me."

"Kurt, I got this … very strange phone call last night from somebody I don't know or haven't spoken with before."

"Okay"

"He basically told me that you have been seeing Benjamin while I have been in LA," Blaine continued.

Within a split second Kurt's world stopped turning. "What are you talking about?" he said, completely confused.

Blaine started crying. "Kurt, I need to know the truth, so please, please don't lie to me right now."

Kurt held his breath, trying to make a lot of outrageous pieces fit together. "Blaine, honey, I'm not seeing Benjamin."

Blaine's voice hardened. "So you are denying meeting with Benjamin  _anywhere_  in New York while I have been gone?"

By that particular wording yesterday came tumbling down at Kurt faster than an avalanche, threatening to bury him alive as he suddenly struggled to find his own footing. "Oh my god, Blaine," he gasped out in despair. "I bumped into him yesterday. Right after I had been shopping with Joyce and was on my way back to the theater. It was all random and we talked for about 5 minutes. That's all."

Blaine wavered. "Kurt, this hurts so fucking much. You have  _no_  idea." He was sobbing now, unable to hold in his brokenness.

"Blaine, baby, listen to me." Kurt could hear the panic rise in his own voice. This was nothing but a terrible misunderstanding but he could hardly breathe by the thought of what Blaine was going through. "I swear to god that it's all I've seen of him since I called off the engagement. He told me about his new boyfriend and how happy he was. Just stuff like that. And then he congratulated me on our musical."

Blaine drew a shaky breath. "Kurt, if this happened yesterday at lunch, then why didn't you tell me? "he said unhappy. "We talked for a long time after you had returned from the theater, but you never mentioned it. And suddenly this mystery guy texted me a picture of you and Benjamin out of nowhere, and to tell you the truth, it didn't look like a random meeting or a five minutes talk. What was I supposed to believe?"

"Blaine, I simply forgot to tell you," Kurt said heartbroken. "It wasn't the highlight of my day. Wait ... did you say there was a picture?"

"Yes, there's a picture, that's why I'm a mess. It just looks very ... intimate."

"Who is taking pictures of me in New York? Do I have a stalker or something?" Kurt asked horrified and dropped down on the couch with his head spinning. If somebody had been lucky enough to discover his five minutes meeting with Benjamin they would have had to follow him around for quite some time.

"I don't know Kurt," Blaine said with a thick voice. "I don't know anything about that guy. My world just kind of stopped at the sight of you and Benjamin."

"Blaine, I love you like crazy. I would never in a thousand years do  _anything_  to hurt you. You're my entire life."

"I know," Blaine whispered as some of the tension left. "I'm sorry Kurt. I don't know why I freaked out like that. I just … I wouldn't survive without you, not even for a minute."

"Why didn't you call me right away, baby?" There was not a shadow of in blame in Kurt's question. It just tore him apart that he couldn't pull Blaine into a tight hug and tell him that everything was going to be alright.

"I wanted to, believe me," Blaine responded. "But I got  _so_  scared. I can't explain it any other way."

Now it was Kurt's time to cry. "But you can call me at any hour and I will always pick up and I will always listen to you, and talk to you, no matter how insane you may sound. We are each others sanity, remember?"

"I know," Blaine said, wrecking up again.

Kurt dried his eyes and made a quick decision "Blaine, I'm taking the first flight to LA today. We need to be together."

"No, you have rehearsals tomorrow," Blaine snuffled, "and I'll be alright, I promise. I'm just … so relieved that you and I are okay."

"To be honest, I don't care about the play right now. I need to be there with you," Kurt objected. He was not going to let anybody hurt Blaine like that. They needed to get to the bottom of this. They  _had_  to figure out who this mystery caller was.

"But too much is at stake, with your career and the play. I think I'll be home Wednesday or Thursday. We only have to survive this for three more days."

"Three days is an eternity, baby. I don't think I can wait that long."

"Please Kurt," Blaine begged. "Don't take that risk. Make sure Dubrowski can't blame you for  _anything_  and make a point by being the best actor and writer he has ever been allowed to work with. I can deal with anything as long as I know we are alright"

"I don't know, Blaine," Kurt muttered. "This is too much."

"I love you, Kurt, more than you will ever know and I'm sorry for being so stupid."

"You're not stupid," Kurt said firmly. "You're adorable, and beautiful, and precious. I'll never let you go."

"I'll never let you go either and I would have fought for you. I wouldn't have let Benjamin have you again."

"Benjamin who?"

"I don't know, some random, ugly guy."

Kurt chuckled before he got serious again. "Who do you think is behind this?"

"Um, right before I got insane and unreasonable I thought about Joseph and his gang. Maybe they are growing impatient and want to remind us that they know everybody around Sam."

"Well it's a theory, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess, but then they'd have to have a stalker following you 24/7 in New York and they could not possibly know that you would bump into Benjamin."

"You're right, it seems insane, but maybe they just got lucky."

"Is there anyway it could be … Benjamin?" Blaine asked careful.

Kurt considered the possibility before he answered. "I don't know, but I don't think so. He seemed genuinely happy with his new life."

"I didn't want to accuse Benjamin of anything," Blaine added. "It was just a thought."

"I know and we have to consider all options." Kurt sighed. "You must be so tired now, Blaine."

"I am .. I'm exhausted."

"Okay, this is what we're going to do. Send me the picture you got, then I'll look into the details. Maybe I can remember something specific that will get us closer to a solution. In the meantime you will have to catch up on some sleep and then I'll call you back in a couple of hours."

"Are you sure you even want that stupid picture."

"I'm sure sweetie, and now get some rest."

* * *

Kurt was still shaking when he put down the phone. How could somebody be so mean and how could he forget to tell Blaine about Benjamin? Kurt knew something like that would be important, of course it would. Talking to Benjamin had brought him some sort of closure though and it had actually made him happy, but god how he hated that it had put Blaine through so much pain.

He couldn't help peeking out the window just to check if somebody was watching him from the street. It was completely ridiculous of course and he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary but it was an unsettling feeling nevertheless.

Another thought struck Kurt out of the blue. Could it be the persistent dancer from The Ensemble, Victor?. Kurt didn't know him at all but what if he was one of those crazed out guys who turned psychic if someone turned them down?

When the picture appeared on his phone a few moments later, he looked at it all horrified. No wonder it had been messing with Blaine's head. Out of context it looked much more romantic than a casual meeting. From all he could tell it would have to be right after they hugged each other goodbye. It had been a completely natural thing to do and not awkward or pushed in any way, but when you stop time like that so much of the story gets lost.

He stirred his computer to life again and started searching for a plane ticket. It was a risk not showing up at the theater on Monday, Blaine was right about that, but he couldn't care less. He was going to LA today, no matter how much it would cost him.

It took him a couple of phone calls to secure a ticket ASAP and then he moved on to the much dreaded phone call to Dubrowski, which only could have a positive outcome in a fantasy world.

"I cannot believe you are doing this again, Hummel," the director hissed before Kurt could say anything. "I don't know how you feel about your time off and your Sundays in particular, but where I come from, Sundays are sacred, and yet you seem to be determined to ruin mine."

"I don't have any other option," Kurt stated calmly, "and I'm just trying to give you a heads up before it's too late."

"A heads up about what," Dubrovski spat out.

"Things have gotten worse for my friend in LA and I will have to fly there immediately, which means I cannot be at the theater next week until Thursday."

Dubrowski grew silent as he always did right before he got particularly vicious. "Hummel, I have never before in my entire career met someone with a more condescending attitude than yours. You think the entire world spins around you, don't you? You assume that the rest of us are obliged to adjust to the insignificant ups and downs in your pathetic private life, but you're wrong. I  _knew_  it was a mistake to hire you in the first place when so many talented people could do it way better."

"And with so many talented people you mean your nephew, yeah, I got that much." Kurt snapped. "I have been to your disposition for an entire week, and five out of six days you have been stalling everything that,  _god forbid_ , could involve me. I have a friend in need, I don't ask for a vacation to go to Tahiti, even though I would prefer that to sitting on a chair for eight hours in the theater doing ten minutes of work. You have made your point clear in an unreasonable manner and I am not asking for your permission to go, I'm informing you that I  _have_ to go, and I promise you that I will be back on my chair, waiting for 8 hours, on Thursday."

Dubrovski sounded cold as ice when he finally replied. "Kurt, if you and sorry little ass are not sitting on a chair at the theater Monday morning at 9 sharp, you are out of a job. It's as simple as that."

"Well, a nice day to you too, sir," Kurt replied with a mockingly sweet voice and hung up.

Then he hurried packing and headed for the airport. On his way he texted one short message to Blaine.

_Hope you had a nice nap, pick me up at LAX at 4pm. Love you 3_

* * *

Blaine saw Kurt first and all the walls he had built up in order not to cry, came tumbling down. Here he was, a grown man, and still his breath got stuck by the sight of Kurt. The long lean body, the way he held himself with pride and his piercing blue eyes, now scouting for Blaine.

The moment Kurt found him in the crowd a huge smile spread across his beautiful face. They both hurried towards each other, not losing eye contact and without caring what others might think Blaine disappeared into Kurt's arms. They held on tight for the longest moment ever as Blaine inhaled the familiar smell and just dwelled in the contact between their bodies.

"I love you so much, Blaine," Kurt finally whispered. "I'm lost when you're not around and there is not a single minute throughout the day where I don't think about you somehow." He let go of Blaine "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, did you know that?" he continued and dried the tears away from Blaine's wet cheeks. "I'm not letting you go, ever."

Blaine let out a gasp, so overwhelmed by his emotions. "Is that a proposal?" he asked and tried to smile.

"No, when I'm going to propose, you'll know."

Blaine chuckled and dragged Kurt in for another hug. "God, I never thought I'd miss you this much, and I'm so sorry that I freaked out like that. I was exhausted and very easy to mess with I'm afraid."

Kurt intertwined their fingers. "That was a horrible, horrible picture, Blaine, and I would have lost it too if I had seen you with another guy like that and no explanation. I should have come much sooner."

Blaine leaned in for kiss and was immediately swept away by Kurt's warm, giving mouth and the soft pressure of his lips. "Let's forget about all that," he whispered blushing.

Kurt sighed happy and squeezed Blaine's hand as they got ready to leave the airport.

"I can't believe Dubrowski let you go." Blaine said as they started walking.

Kurt let out a huff. "He didn't exactly let me go … it was more like … I  _informed_  him that I was going."

Blaine stopped. "But we talked about this, honey," he said gently.

"We did … and then I changed my mind," Kurt beamed.

"What did he say?"

"He told me, in some  _very_  flattering phrases, that if my sorry little ass wasn't planted on one of his chairs by Monday I would get fired."

"Kurt." Blaine looked at him, mildly accusingly, "is it really worth it?"

"For you? Of course. I was not going to let you be miserable across the country just because some unknown psychopathic guy is having a go at us. We're in this together. Dubrowski has been waiting for an opportunity to nail me all week anyway. If it hadn't been this, it would have been something else. I'll deal with him Thursday morning."

Blaine relaxed again and leaned closer as the walked side by side. "Thank you for coming."

"I always will, baby. So where are we going? I wasn't sure if I should book a hotel."

Blaine winked. "You're staying with me at Mercedes apartment. I have a room all to myself and we can both stay there as long as we're in LA."

They kissed again in the car; because they could and because it felt like the best thing to do in the entire world. Deep, wanting kisses, with fingers clutching shirts and whimpering sounds.

"I need to be with you," Kurt stuttered with eyes closed shut and panting breath.

"Then let's go home," Blaine gasped with a dark stare.

"Home?"

"Home is not a place, baby. Home is where you are."

"Sweet answer," Kurt said and leaned back in the seat, trying to wind down again.

* * *

Kurt admired the colorful decoration in Mercedes house and it made him miss her deeply. They had been close back in high school and she had visited him in New York a couple of times. But it felt like too little too late in the aftermath of everything she was facing right now.

"She's not home," Blaine explained and led the way into the spare bedroom where he had lived for a week. He put Kurt's bag down right next to the bed. "She is spending the day with Quinn and Sam; making sure that he is settled into the rehab center. But it seems to be really cool. I mean I've only seen the pictures, but I talked to Mercedes on the phone before you got here and she was very satisfied." While Blaine was talking he carefully unpacked Kurt's suitcase, putting clothes on hangers and making sure nothing got wrinkled.

Kurt followed him with his eyes, listening to the rise and fall of Blaine's voice and enjoying every movement. There was so much consideration behind everything Blaine did and said, and it suddenly overwhelmed him.

Blaine captured his stare and a warm smile appeared as if he could read Kurt's thoughts.

"No one could have made all this happen like you," Kurt said softly and let his attention drop down to Blaine's mouth and then back up to the golden eyes.

Blaine blinked and parted his lips. His cheeks gained color as he lingered on to Kurt as well. "I don't know about that," he said reluctantly and stepped closer. "When it comes to Sam everybody is needed."

Kurt's heart picked up pace and his breath got stuck in his chest as Blaine skimmed warm hands down his arms, barely touching him until he reached the insides of Kurt's wrists, and began to rub featherlight circles on the sensitive skin.

"Why do I always fall apart when you're this close?" Kurt whispered and closed his eyes.

"I don't know," Blaine said halfway wrecked. "But falling apart is the best thing ever."

He continued slowly down to Kurt's fingers, spreading them apart before he enlaced them with his own. "It makes worlds spin and bodies tingle," he whispered close to Kurt's neck. "It's like being strong and weak at the same time. Strong enough to love forever and safe enough to be vulnerable and lost."

Kurt shivered as the words settled. Blaine could seduce him in a split second just by the way he talked or how he moved around him, so subtle and yet so suggestive, not stopping until Kurt could hardly stand on his feet. It had always been like this.

Blaine closed the gap between them and kissed him, slowly and passionately as his hands continued over to Kurt's hips. His thumbs pressed slightly onto the soft spot next to his hip bones and Kurt instantly pushed forward with the bulge growing in his pants.

His tongue got persistent and Kurt opened up wider with a content sigh. In this state of mind, completely unglued and panting, Blaine could ask anything and Kurt would give it to him.

Blaine pulled away and captured Kurt with dark amber eyes, radiating love. Kurt inhaled sharply and began to untuck Blaine's shirt until his eager fingers found the warm skin underneath the fabric.

"You drive me crazy," Blaine mumbled and let Kurt's hands find their way around to his stomach and up to his chest. They both helped each other pull the shirt off over his head and when they started kissing again Blaine immediately worked on the buttons on Kurt's dress shirt. With the shirt wide open he cupped Kurt's cheeks, fingers spread, before he let them run down his neck and pushed the shirt past his strong shoulders.

Before Kurt knew it Blaine was behind him, lips and tongue trailing across sensitive skin, making it shiver down his spine straight to his toes. He surrendered completely and let his head drop backwards and with kisses still peppered on his shoulders and neck, Blaine's hands worked on Kurt's belt and pants.

"I swear to god, if you stop now, Blaine, I will die," Kurt whimpered and pressed his ass snugly up against his lovers erection.

"I'm not going to stop," Blaine promised through a huff of warm breath right next to Kurt's ear. "I will do this for as long as you want me to and I'll do anything you ask me to."

Kurt wet his lips and sighed with relief as his pants slid down past his throbbing cock, giving it more freedom with only the briefs holding it back. They continued to slowly undress each other, staying highly aroused for as long as possible, shifting from gentle moves to untamed passion, exploding in their veins.

Kurt responded to every caress and firm grip with shivering muscles and moans he tried to keep buried deep down in his throat. But he was failing miserably. The feeling of Blaine on top of him and around him covered his entire world until nothing else mattered and no one else existed; just Blaine. With a whimpering sound Kurt relaxed his legs to the sides and gave Blaine access to every part of his body and Blaine knew what he was asking; what he needed more than anything at this very moment; and this deep understanding between them made the intimacy the safest place to be.

Kurt dragged him down for a sloppy kiss, tilting his hips slightly to give more room as his lover gently prepared him, rubbing firm circles until his fingers penetrated the entrance and made Kurt taste of Blaine was intoxicating and the way he sucked on Kurt's tongue and lips, still moving his fingers inside of Kurt, made everything blurred; out of time and place.

"I'm too close, baby," he whimpered and dragged his boyfriend down to get a short break. "I'm not ready to let go quite yet."

"You are so beautiful when you're about to come, " Blaine whispered heatedly and wrapped himself around Kurt. "It's the sexiest sight I've ever seen" He bit his lip. "If you only knew where my mind goes when you're not around."

"Where does it go?" Kurt asked not capable of opening his eyes.

"It goes to this moment exactly, right before you allow me to push you over the edge. It's all I need to get turned on even when we're miles apart."

Kurt shivered and intertwined their hands over his head as he still slowly pushed his erection up against Blaine. Not too quickly, just enough to balance this all consuming need. "What do you do when you're alone then?" He asked and bit his lip.

Blaine smiled into a shy kiss and shifted slightly on top of Kurt. "I touch myself but in my mind it's  _your_  hands and  _your_  lips on me and I see  _your_  eyes staring back at me."

Kurt moaned by the pictures passing in his mind. "I need you inside of me now," he stuttered, "I want to feel you, baby."

Blaine kissed him again and positioned himself before he gently pushed inside of Kurt with an intense sigh. Kurt could feel him tremble as he wrapped his arms around him, one hand buried in the dark curls and the other on Blaine's ass, slowly guiding him to the right pace. Everything in Kurt melted into one absorbing feeling of being loved. It was like breathing - in and out - a little deeper every time. Move upon move that made his body tingle as their arousal swept them away.

Then he lost control; and with Blaine's name leaving his lips and echoing in his heart he let the orgasm push him over the edge; his body seizing around his lover.

Blaine slowed down in two long pushes and then he came too, buried deep in the warmth, holding Kurt tight as if he would never ever let him go. Kurt embraced him and stayed on the high while Blaine rode off the orgasm, almost sobbing into Kurt's neck.

Together their breathing found a normal rate and the relaxation seeped into the tight hug. Blaine rolled down and pulled Kurt around onto his side until they were laying tangled together with their faces inches apart.

Kurt trailed a finger along the edge of Blaine's hair line and pulled lightly in the dark, damp curls. In the afterglow they could say everything to each other. What would had felt cheesy in the light of day with all kinds of distraction surrounding them, always felt right and heartfelt when their bodies and souls tried to comprehend each other.

"You're everything good, everything desirable and everything grounded in this whirlwind of us," Kurt said without blinking.

* * *

For the rest of the day they drifted in and out of sleep only interrupted by lazy kisses and a blowjob Blaine incoherently claimed he would remember for the rest of his life. He was like a dried out well, slowly filling up again and he wish he could stay here all tangled up in Kurt forever.

When hunger finally lured them out of bed it was way past 9 pm and after a quick shower and a ridiculous huge amount of take-out, because Kurt could see Blaine was losing weight, they settled down in Mercedes comfortable kitchen.

They ate and laughed as if they didn't have a care in the world, until they were completely stuffed, having leftovers for at least two days. Then they heard Mercedes making her way into the apartment. "Hi guys, I'm home," she yelled, clearly kicking off her shoes.

Kurt winked to Blaine and then he said. "Oh shit, Blaine … um, Cedes, can you give us minute?"

Blaine strangled a laugh and rumbled around with the chairs.

"You have  _got_  to be kidding," Mercedes squealed. "If you are having a go at it on  _my_  kitchen table I swear to God you will have to replace it!"

Blaine burst into tears when Kurt started to moan. "Oh Blaine, oh Blaine, just a little higher."

Mercedes appeared in the door, with a stern look and her arms crossed over her chest. "So this is the way you thank me for letting you guys stay? I honestly thought I was interrupting something."

Kurt reached her in two long strides and pulled her in for a bear hug. "It's so good to see you, girlfriend."

She started to chuckle in his arms and held on as they rocked back and forth. "Good to see you too, boo".

"If you're hungry we have plenty of food," Blaine said with a smile.

Mercedes let go of Kurt and looked at all the leftovers. "Oh my god, have you been having a party or something?" She sat down across from Blaine, but pushed the plates aside. "I have had dinner with Sam and Quinn, which means that Quinn and I were eating and Sam was just sitting there repeating over and over again how nice it was of us to be there."

Kurt suddenly wondered if he really was prepared for visiting Sam tomorrow.. Would he be completely different? Would Kurt even know what to say? He started to clear the table as Mercedes filled Blaine in on the last two days events. They were holding each others hands as they spoke and the way they talked revealed how deep and supporting their relationship had become over the past week. Kurt experienced a moment of jealousy, but he couldn't point out if he was jealous of Mercedes or Blaine, so he shrugged it off with a smile. He was beyond blessed with the friendships he had in his life.

When the kitchen was spotless he joined them at the table. Mercedes grabbed his hand too. "I'm so happy you're here, Kurt."

He robbed his thumb over her knuckles. "Me too, honey. So what is the plan for tomorrow?"

"Well, I'm exhausted," she claimed, "so I kind of hoped you guys could be with Sam most of the day. I'm meeting up with Quinn in the afternoon and then we will take over while the exchange of money is happening."

"The exchange is tomorrow night?" Kurt asked surprised.

"Yeah, hasn't Blaine told you?" Mercedes asked.

"No, I completely forgot," Blaine admitted right away.

"Well, your mind must have been elsewhere," Mercedes teased.

Blaine blushed and rubbed the nape of his neck. "Yes, I … um … maybe." Then he smiled. "I mean, yes, completely."

Kurt decided to save him. "We'll be with Sam tomorrow, don't worry Cedes, that's why I'm here."

"I kind of have an idea that I want to run by you," Blaine said and looked excited. "I'm thinking about buying a dog for Sam."

"A dog?" Kurt repeated.

"Yes, a Golden Retriever. He has always wanted one," Blaine explained. "They had one when he was a kid and I just … I somehow think it will be good for him."

"But now?" Kurt asked confused. "Shouldn't it be when he is better? Can he even take care of a dog right now?"

"I actually think now is a good time," Mercedes said thoughtful. "And you're right; he always talks about Snoopi, the dog they had when he was a kid. But where will you get a dog? They can be quite expensive."

"I've thought about going to one of the shelters nearby. I think that's what Sam would have done."

Kurt smiled and let his hand run down Blaine's back. "Then let's go dog-shopping tomorrow, honey."

"You think it's a good idea then?" Blaine asked with a boyish smile.

"You know that better than anyone," Kurt answered, "I completely trust your judgement."

"Great," Blaine said happy. "I've already checked the regulations about animals at the center and if it's a part of the patients recovery it is allowed."

They kept talking for a couple of hours, laughing at the silliest things until Amber swore she would pee in her pants if they didn't stop. Kurt was the one who had to give in first and go to bed. He was still on New York time and couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

He was almost asleep when Blaine crawled under the duvet next to him and spooned him.

"I've missed you so much," Kurt mumbled and kissed Blaine's hand.


	11. Jackpot

Kurt woke up with Blaine's arm resting warm and heavy around his waist and he blissfully let the feeling of closeness between them spread to the rest of his body. Yesterday had been heartbreaking and emotional and amazing and today wouldn't be any different, but being together again was all Kurt cared about. He stretched lightly and moved his head to the side to watch Blaine's relaxed face and his calm breathing as the duvet was slowly rising and falling. His dark curls were tangled into a sweet mess, framing his forehead and matching the long lashes that were resting on his cheek. He was beautiful. Kurt decided to let him sleep and snuck out of bed as carefully as possible.

After a long shower he got dressed and tip toed out to the kitchen. It was a beautiful morning in LA with shades of red and orange,coloring the sky and as he made himself a strong cup of coffee and little piece of happiness got stuck in his chest. With a smile he got seated at the table with his laptop. It didn't take long to locate three different animal shelters in the neighborhood that was most likely have what they were looking for. Most shelters had pictures on their web sites of the dogs that were up for adoption and none of them were Golden Retrievers. But they also encouraged people to come by because some of the dogs were coming and going really fast.

With the addresses saved on his phone he went offline again and quietly fetched two frying pans and began to make pancakes and scrambled eggs. Mercedes and Blaine deserved a breakfast to remember. It didn't take long before a delicious smell filled the house. He found a tray and arranged everything beautifully with a single rose at the side from a bouquet of flowers Mercedes had standing in the living room. He would make sure to put it back before long so it wouldn't wither. With a smile on his face he pushed the door open to their room and balanced the tray with one hand as he gently shook Blaine awake.

Blaine hummed by the touch. "I've missed you," he mumbled with a sleepy sound.

"You've been way too tired to miss anything," Kurt objected and placed the tray between them on the bed. "You practically haven't moved all night."

"I still felt you in my sleep though. God, this smells delicious!"

Kurt laughed at Blaine's childish face. It was just the reaction he had hoped for.

"Mercedes and I have eaten nothing but cereal all week," Blaine explained. We were always on our way out, getting up at the last minute." With hungry eyes he covered a pancake with syrup and poured a glass of juice.

"I knew you weren't taking care of yourself," Kurt remarked and scooped closer to Blaine, making himself comfortable.

"That's why I need you," Blaine said between two huge bites of pancake.

They talked and laughed muffled for the rest of the meal, afraid to wake up Mercedes. When they were done Blaine jumped in the shower while Kurt did the dishes. Then he put the flower back and made a dish for Mercedes added a sweet good morning note before he and Blaine headed out.

The first shelter was only ten minutes away; a small place with no more than 20 dogs. They didn't have any Retrievers and the owner informed them that it would be hard to find one on such a short notice. The Retrievers were a popular breed and many shelters had buyers on waiting lists. The second place was a lot bigger and surrounded by huge fenced areas; pure heaven for any dog. When they stepped inside a smiling woman in her fifties was busy letting a pack of dogs into big cages. "Morning," she bellowed as she released each dog from a bundle of leashes. "I've just been walking these, but I'll be with you in minute."

Blaine looked at dogs surrounding her, all trying to get their share of petting and goodies. "You walked them all the same time?" he asked impressed.

"Oh yes," she laughed. "This pack is so well behaved that it's no biggie. There are other dogs that need things a bit more organized." She managed to close the door after the last wagging tail and turned around with rosy cheeks and a satisfied sigh.

"My name is Mary by the way," she said and shook both their hands. "So, what can I do for you boys?" she asked.

"We are looking for a Golden Retriever," Blaine started, "but we were told at another shelter that it could be a difficult task."

Mary placed her hands on her hip and blew a strand of hair away from her eyes. "That may be right. We don't have any Retrievers at the moment. They are quite popular and usually there are waiting lists for them. But if you leave your phone number I can call you if things change."

Blaine's slouching shoulders were hard to miss. "It's very sweet of you … but we need a dog within days."

"Look, I know the Retrievers are really kind natured dogs," Mary said, "but we have a lot of dogs here that will be as good as any Retriever. Maybe if you took a walk down the hallway and talked to the different dogs we have here one of them will be all the Retriever you need."

"I don't know," Blaine said and bit his lips.

Mary rubbed his arm in motherly way. "Come with me to the counter, then we can make some phone calls together. We just might be lucky, right?"

Blaine nodded and followed Mary up front. Kurt stayed behind and decided to take a look at the dogs in the cages down the hallway as suggested.

There were all kind of dogs; different breeds, mixed ones, some very outgoing and curious and some more careful and guarded. The latter was clearly still recovering from whatever ordeal they had been through. Kurt was not much of a dog person, but there was something touching about these creatures, just waiting for somebody kind to love them unconditionally. One dog in particular caught his attention. He wasn't louder than the other dogs and he didn't try to get noticed. If anything he actually seemed more cautious. But there was something very special about his brown eyes, patiently following Kurt around.

"Hey there,, little fella," Kurt said and sat down in front of the bars. "You have been watching me, haven't you?"

The dog tilted his head and waggled hesitantly with his tail. Kurt suddenly realized that half of his ear was missing, almost chunked off. He reached in and tangled his fingers in the soft half curled brownish fur. It was a medium sized dog but other than that it was hard to tell what kind of breed he was, probably a mix of many things.

"So what happened to you?" Kurt asked and scratched the dog behind the healthy ear. "You've had a rough life too?" The dog reached out a paw for Kurt to take and tilted his head even more, clearly enjoying the scratching and the contact.

Blaine came down the hallway and tucked his phone away as he approached.

"Any luck?" Kurt asked without moving his gaze from the brown eyes, peeking out behind the bars.

Blaine sighed and got down on the floor with them. "Nope, only waiting lists and I can't help feeling that Sam needs something now." Blaine looked at Kurt's furry friend and suddenly nudged him teasingly. "I didn't know you were good with dogs This one is practically ready to move in with you."

Kurt rolled his eyes and tried to prevent a smile from showing. "Well, there is something sweet about him, you have to admit that."

Blaine reached in and started petting the dog too. It seemed to encourage the little guy who moved closer as he sniffed them carefully.

"Are you sure it _has_ to be a Golden Retriever?" Kurt asked pondering. "Isn't it more important that it's a dog that can match Sam's mindset?"

Blaine considered it for awhile. "To be honest I think Sam will resist _any_ dog at first. He will not be able to see the point, but if it's a Retriever it will be a bit easier to persuade him. I'm not going to force him in any way, it's just …. that I really believe this could help him."

"But why not let the dog persuade Sam instead of the breed?" Kurt asked.

"I see you've found "Jackpot"," Mary suddenly said behind them.

"He's called Jackpot?" Blaine asked amused.

"We don't know what he originally was called." Mary explained. "I'm not sure he ever had a real name. But after we rescued him it seemed fitting with Jackpot. It was a win-win situation for him and for us."

Jackpot clearly responded to Mary's presence and jumped up the bars as she let him out. He greeted her properly and then turned his attention to his two new friends again.

"What's his story?" Kurt asked and let his hand run over the damaged ear.

"We rescued him from a raving mad owner who should never be allowed to have animals ever. The guy lived on an isolated farm and had a nasty habit of threatening trespassers with a shotgun. Unfortunately almost anyone who wanted to talk to him was considered trespassers. It took awhile for people in the neighborhood to realize that the barn held an uncounted number of dogs and that he mistreated them. So we had the police go out there and remove him first and then we went to inspect the property. I will never forget the sight that met us out there." Mary said with sadness in her voice. "There were dogs all over the place, sick and infected, some dead and some beyond the reach of our help. They had been breeding as they pleased, with no one to take care of the new puppies. Out of thirty six dogs we were only able to rescue five. Seven were already dead and the rest of them were too sick, or traumatized or suffered from inbreeding and had to be put to sleep."

"How awful," Blaine whispered and buried his face in Jackpots fur. Jackpot licked him in response.

"Yes," Mary said, "it was, and that's why he is so special to us. He's the last of the five dogs that waits for an adoption. Somehow people are a bit hesitant about him … or maybe we are hesitant to give him away," she admitted with a smile.

"What happened to his ear?" Kurt asked curious.

"He was probably in a fight," Mary answered. "When we got to him his ear was completely shredded and infected. He had to go through surgery and then we put him on a heavy antibiotic treatment afterwards. It was the infection that nearly got the better of him, but he pulled through."

Blaine got up and looked at Mary. "Our situation is a bit complicated," he said with honesty. "We are trying to find a dog for a very dear friend of ours. He has been admitted to a rehabilitation facility to recover after a violent attack and now he suffers from depression. He loves dogs and somehow I think the right dog could help him heal."

Mary frowned at first and then she nodded, understanding. "It's true that dogs can do miracles when it comes to brokenness. But I have to be honest with you. We are not giving Jackpot up for adoption unless we are 100% that he will be taken good care of for the rest of his life. So we will have to meet your friend and we will have to approve of him as owner." She sighed. "And then …. still …. as I said before, we _do_ have a hard time letting him go. So as undefined as it might sound it has to feel right to me. You do understand that, right?"

"We understand completely," Blaine said sadly. "And Sam is not well enough to come here at the moment. But maybe later."

Mary watched Jackpot for a moment as he was trying to decide weather to put his head in Kurt's lap or being scratched by Blaine. "I have to say though," she then added. "Jackpot doesn't trust a lot of people, but somehow he seems to trust the two of you, so maybe I should too."

Kurt, Blaine and Jackpot looked at her in unison and Kurt could have sworn Jackpot understood what was going on.

"Okay, this is what we are going to do," Mary said determined . "You can borrow Jackpot. Take him with you and introduce him to Sam. Some of our dogs now works on hospitals with their owners and maybe this will work too. If Sam and Jackpot hit it off, we will take it from there. I will still have to meet Sam if an adoption is coming up but it doesn't have to be right now."

"That would be so amazing," Blaine said beaming. "What do you think, Kurt?"

"I think we should give it a try," Kurt answered sincerely

Twenty minutes later the three of them sat in the car. Blaine, Kurt and Jackpot; and Kurt couldn't help thinking if Jackpot was just as nervous about meeting Sam as he was.

What do you say to a friend with a shattered world and a bleeding heart that you haven't seen for years?

* * *

Sam tried to use a technique that he had learned this morning in a therapy session with the guy that would be his primary contact person while he was here. Michael or Mark or something. Sam couldn't quite remember. Or maybe it was Mitch? Sometimes the simplest things escaped his brain faster than the blink of an eye. Anyway, he was supposed to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. The point was to distract himself from all the thoughts that ran through his brain. They had a tendency to get tangled together like a cob web until he couldn't tell them apart. The Mark-guy had told him that instead of one thought leading to another, leading to another like most people experienced, he had six thoughts leading to twelve more, leading to hundred more until he was like a television, zapping through hundreds of channels every second.

He dropped his head down on the table in front of him and tried to shut down. He was tired; he was always so damn tired. More than anything he wanted to sleep until Mercedes or Blaine would come by. But he couldn't sleep. His thoughts wouldn't let him.

_Breathe in ... Breathe out._

The hardest thing was to be alone. It was like all the crazy blew up in his head when he hadn't somebody close to him. He didn't just need anybody, he needed friends. Friends that knew about him; who had known him as the one he used to be ... as the old Sam.

_Breathe in ... Breathe out._

His biggest fear wasn't to get beaten up again by Joseph and his gang. He had deserved what was coming his way no matter how many times Mercedes told him otherwise. No, what he feared more than anything was the thought of never being the same Sam again ... ever. That he would stay in this crazy-land his mind was representing right now, forgetting things, crying for no reason at all and never feeling the bliss of silence inside. He was scared to death that he would never be able to work again or to offer Mercedes anything more than what he was now. And he was scared of ending up like his dad, broken and weak, unable to provide for his family or live a normal life.

_Breathe in ... Breathe out_

Tears started to burn behind his closed eyelids. "God, I wish Mercedes or Blaine was here," he mumbled into his arms.

"Does that mean you're not happy to see _me_?" a light, melodic voice said from the doorway of his room.

Sam looked up in surprise and dried the tears away with a swift movement. "Kurt," he said with a rough voice. " I had forgotten you were in LA." He smiled at Kurt's dramatic disappointment. " Don't take it personal though," Sam added and got up. "It happens a lot lately."

The two boys hugged and Sam held on for a little while. His eyes began to well up again. "Don't mind me," he said when he saw the worry in Kurt's blue eyes. "This happens a lot too. I really _am_ happy to see you."

Kurt smiled and the warmth returned in his gaze. "I'm really happy to see you too, Sam."

They looked at each other for awhile until Sam broke the contact. "I'm not good at small talk. Sorry," he said with an apologetic shrug.

"That's okay. I'll do the talking for both of us," Kurt said and took off his coat.

Sam drew a sigh of relief. Kurt apparently didn't expect too much from him. It helped him relax.

"We could sit down," Kurt suggested and pointed to the two armchairs next to the window area, From there a beautiful view of the residential park was revealed.. "It seems really calm and nice around here," he then said and got comfortable in the huge chair. "Do you like this so far?"

Sam pundered. "I don't really know. People keep asking me, but I don't know. It's okay, I guess."

"Sam, it has to better than okay, look at that park and this room. Even I would be able to put the upbeat pace of New York behind me after a couple of days here."

"Oh, I'm not ungrateful at all," Sam stated, afraid that he had offended anybody. "I just don't know how you guys can afford to have me here. With the money you've already raised for my debt it's hard not to feel guilty all the time." His heart was pounding. He hadn't exactly been putting these things into so many words with Blaine and Mercedes. He was afraid to hurt their feelings. But it was troubling him; all the time. "I know you all want me to be well again, and I appreciate that at lot, I do. But maybe if I just pulled myself together I could get better on my own and then you guys wouldn't have to pay for this."

Kurt looked at him all puzzled. "Sam, we're not paying for all this."

Sam frowned. "You're not?"

"No. It's true that we've all helped raising the money for your debt, but not for your rehab."

"Then who is?" Sam asked confused.

"I thought you knew?"

"No, I just assumed it was you guys, since my parents certainly can't afford it and our insurance never would cover this kind of luxury."

"Well, it's no secret, Sam. Blaine and Cooper's dad started a foundation a year ago together with his business partner. The foundation is named after the business partner's daughter, Cassandra. She committed suicide a year ago, due to undiagnosed depression. Nobody knew she was struggling. Now the foundation is run by Cooper and Cassie's mom and they support treatment to young kids struggling with life. Sam they didn't hesitate a minute when they heard about your need for treatment.

A heavy, paralyzing burden fell off of Sam's shoulders and brought tears to his eyes immediately. But this time Kurt seemed prepared and it didn't feel awkward. "Wow, that's just … so kind of them," Sam breathed out with a quivering chin.

Kurt handed him a napkin. "It actually helps Cassie's parents to deal with the loss of their daughter and I know they were more than happy to help," he explained.

Sam couldn't say anything, but he listened carefully as Kurt moved to the edge of the chair and grabbed his hand.

"You only have to worry about _one_ thing while you're here, Sam. And that is to get better; because you _will_ get better. You don't have to worry about how long it will take, nobody expects you to flip this thing around over a couple of weeks."

"It's just so damn hard," Sam stuttered, "because I _do_ worry. How can I not?"

Kurt leaned back in the chair but maintained focus completely. "Tell me what troubles you the most then."

Sam looked at his hands and then back at Kurt. He remembered the friendship they established at McKinley's as if it was yesterday.. Despite all the warnings they had received from their fellow Glee club members, they had managed to be important to each other from the very start. He had trusted Kurt back then and in all honesty he still trusted him.

"I … worry about the exchange of money," Sam mentioned as the first thing. "More than anything that's what occupies my head and my mind, day and night. And I know Mercedes and Blaine and my mom are afraid to upset me. That's why they won't tell me. And everytime I ask they downplay the subject as if it's no big deal. But I _need_ to know, Kurt. I don't need a lot of details, just the estimated timeframe."

Kurt looked at him for a long time. Clearly arguing with himself about the right thing to do. "Okay," he then said with a nod. "Then I guess I'll have to take the fight with Mercedes later, right?"

Sam manage a half hearted smile. He just needed to know and he had never felt it was right for Mercedes to withhold that kind of information from him anyway. "I can tell her that I forced you," Sam suggested.

"Yeah, I'm sure she'll believe that," Kurt said with a funny accent.

Sam shrugged. "Or maybe not."

"Look, Puck has been the one handling the contact with Joseph and he has been in charge of preparation. The money will be paid tonight. They have agreed on a location and I think most of us will go. Finn is coming in from Ohio later this afternoon to help us out and to make sure things will go down nice and easy. So … after tonight you will be free." Kurt watched him carefully.

Sam knew it would take more than that to set him free for real, but Kurt couldn't know that.

_Breathe in … Breathe out._

"I hope it will go down that smoothly … I just can't help wondering what Joseph will do once you're there," Sam said. "He'll raise the price for sure; just to check out how much money you really have. Oh and … you have to look out for his bodyguard." Sam stopped by the thought of the nasty guy. "He's a real mean piece of muscle called B. One slight provocation and he will be all over you." Sam stared out the window, looking for a mental escape somehow. "He was the one beating me up."

They both went silent for awhile.

"Sam, all you have to do is to hold on to this for the rest of the day," Kurt then said softly. "Mercedes and Quinn will be here and we will call you the very minute the deal is done. Then you can get a good nights sleep."

_Breathe in … Breathe out_

"Thank you, Kurt. This means a lot."

"You're welcome."

Sam ran a shaking hand through his hair. The tiredness lured already.

"Your hair has gotten long," Kurt commented.

Sam nodded. "I've needed a haircut for a long time." He pulled a lock. "This drives me nuts."

"I'll cut it if you want me to."

Sam wiped his hair away from his eyes and secured it behind his ears. "You can do that?"

"Sure," Kurt said as if it was nothing. "Unless you want something really fancy. I cut Blaine's hair all the time. It grows faster than a fertilized lawn on a LA summerday."

A laugh escaped Sam. "Well, in that case, I would like a haircut, Mr. Hummel."

Kurt got up immediately. "If you get your hair wet I'll try to find a good pair of scissors somewhere."

Five minutes later Kurt had arranged a stool in front of the mirror, ready to do a little magic to the long blonde locks. But the moment Sam sat down he asked if they could move away from the mirror. He hated his own reflection too much. Kurt moved him without asking any questions.

Sam just closed his eyes as Kurt started cutting, enjoying the touch and feeling more relieved as lock by lock of hair silently fell to the floor. The long hair had almost resembled his messy un-Sam period. Maybe the old Sam was hidden in there somewhere and wanted to come out if he looked the way he used to. Kurt just let him be with his own thoughts and some kind of unexpected peace found it's way between the two men.

When they were done and as Kurt was working on the finishing touch Blaine arrived with a happy smile on his face. "Wow, looking good Sam. I should have guessed that Kurt would pick up on your hair style."

Sam turned his head to capture Blaine's happy presence when he was distracted by a dog, sitting obedient at his side, wagging it's tail as it picked up on Kurt's scent.

"What's with the dog, Blaine?" Sam asked suspicious. They had had some weird conversations lately about the Golden Retriever Sam once had claimed he wanted. He just hoped this wasn't Blaine's way of fixing him with a dog.

"Oh, _this_ dog?" Blaine repeated innocently. "This is Jackpot. I just thought the two of you might want to get to know each other a bit."

Sam narrowed in on a couple of brown eyes peeking out underneath curly fur. The dog was cute enough, but it wasn't a Golden Retriever and it wasn't Sam's idea. "Blaine … it's not going to work," Sam said tired. "Unless it's _your_ dog I know what you're trying to do … and I'm not capable of taking care of a dog right now."

Blaine didn't seem encouraged at all and Sam knew this wouldn't be settled without a fight, and Blaine had turned out to be more stubborn than Sam remembered him from high school.

"Don't worry," Blaine said and unleashed the dog. "We've only borrowed him from a shelter nearby. I just thought he could keep you company sometimes, and he's actually very sweet when you get to know him."

Sam rubbed his temples. "Did you know about this, Kurt?"

Kurt laughed a little nervous. "Um, actually I was the one who found Jackpot, so yeah … um."

"Great," Sam sighed and reached out for the dog that immediately picked up on the welcoming gesture. "But he is leaving with you guys later today," Sam said firmly, without looking at any of them.

"Of course," Blaine said and winked at Kurt.

The four of them spent the rest of the afternoon together. Sam wasn't always a part of the conversation and from time to time he would lie down on his bed and rest, but he kept repeating that he was so happy they were there. Jackpot took his job very serious and the second time Sam laid down he jumped up to him after Sam had given up on the begging brown eyes and permitted him to.

Blaine and Kurt hadn't revealed much about Jackpots past, but Sam understood. He was a cautious but very giving dog, and the half ear reminded Sam of his own scars. Damn it. Maybe Blaine had been right again Sam thought as he closed his eyes one more time and barely registered that Blaine and Kurt left his room to take a walk in the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12 will be up Sunday and it will be an intense one - can't wait to share it with you.
> 
> From there I might have a problem keeping up with the schedule, which means that after Sunday I will post everytime I'm done with a chapter instead of twice a week.
> 
> See you Sunday ;)


	12. A Hidden Agenda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on I have to leave my Wednesday/Sunday schedule even though I hate to do it. I will post chapters as fast as I can and there will not be more than a week between updates - hopefully less. So if you haven't put the story on alert this might be a good time to do it.
> 
> See you soon ;)

With Jackpot safely rolled up against a sleeping Sam, Kurt and Blaine decided to go for a walk in the beautiful park outside. The sunny day called for outdoor activities and they both enjoyed to having a moment alone.

"So what do you think?" Blaine asked Kurt as he laced their fingers together and held on. "About Sam, I mean."

Kurt adjusted his steps to Blaine's until they were perfectly in sync and then he took in the truly amazing surroundings. People were walking around the beautiful lake, framed by huge stoich trees, or sitting by one of the many clearings.

"I think he will be alright," Kurt finally stated. "But he is still hurting so much."

Blaine sighed. "I hope the exchange of money will give him some peace of mind. It's hard for him to move forward until Joseph is out of his life."

Kurt stopped. "About that," he said and bit his lip. "I kind of told him the exchange was tonight."

Blaine opened his mouth as to object but then he closed it again. "Kind of?"

"Okay, I told him," Kurt confessed and started walking again. "I think he really needed to know, Blaine. I get that you and Mercedes want to protect him and that his only focus should be to get better … but it doesn't work like that. He is worried sick about the money and who can blame him?"

"I know. We just .. we hoped we could wait until it was all over," Blaine sighed.

"Mercedes and Quinn will be with him tonight," Kurt said reassuringly. "And Sam will be alright. He's nervous, just like the rest of us, but there is no easy way out of this; not for Sam and not for us."

They walked in thoughtful silence for awhile before Blaine spoke up again. "Thanks for being here, Kurt. It's nice with a fresh opinion. I'm not sure I can see things clear anymore. It's hard to know what's best for Sam at times."

Kurt stopped again and pulled Blaine in for a soft kiss. "What if I made everything worse?" he asked mildly. "What if Mercedes doesn't appreciate a fresh opinion as much as you?"

"Oh, you'll be in so much trouble with her for telling Sam," Blaine answered with a smirk, "but I think you already knew that."

"I did," Kurt said and rubbed Blaine's back, not ready to break the physical contact. "Even Sam knew that."

Blaine chuckled and put his mouth back on Kurt's lips. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," Kurt said back.

They kept walking all the way around the lake, talking and kissing in the shade of the tall trees when nobody was watching.

"What are the plans for tonight exactly?" Kurt asked when they were on their way back to Sam.

Blaine tensed up ever so slightly. "Oh, you can just drop me off at Artie's place," he answered. "Puck, Finn and I will go through the different scenarios before we drive to the location. Then we'll meet up with Joseph, give him the money and that's it."

"What do you mean by "dropping you off"," Kurt said confused. "I'm coming too."

Blaine cleared his throat nervously. "You know, you don't really have to. I think the three of us got it covered."

Kurt let go of Blaine's hand and crossed his arms defensively. "Really sweet, Blaine, but that's not happening. Of course I'm coming with you."

"I'd rather do this on my own, Kurt," Blaine insisted and pressed his lips tight together, avoiding eye contact.

Kurt got mad. It might be uncalled for but Blaine was trying to keep him out of something he was just as much a part of as anybody else. "So you'll have Finn flying in from Ohio to help out, but you don't need me even though I'm already here?" he asked outraged. "Is this about the  _big guys_  dealing with the  _dangerous_  stuff or what is going on? Because if that's the case then you don't know me very well."

Blaine pocketed his hands and got a stubborn look in his eyes. "No, no. Why do you have to make such a big deal out of this? Finn was always a part of the plan … and that's it. We have to be more than three. It will just appear like we're looking for trouble and that's exactly what can't happen. Don't you understand that?"

"I don't buy it, Blaine. Why on earth wouldn't you want me there? I can help. And you don't know if Joseph has a gang waiting somewhere, ready to armbush you guys. I don't care how much Puck has prepared the exchange, something unexpected can happen in a heartbeat and then it's suicidal not to have some sort of backup."

Blaine wavered. "That's exactly why I don't want you there, Kurt. These guys are easily provoked and it could get ugly". He found Kurt's eyes again before he continued. "And I don't want you to get hurt."

Kurt was about to explode.

"Look, either you're afraid that me and my big mouth are going to get you all in trouble or you're treating me like a girl, being useless when things gets physical. I get that you don't want me to get hurt, Blaine. But at the same time you expect me to sit somewhere, in Mercedes apartment or a random coffee-shop, worrying sick about  _you_  getting hurt? Don't you see how stupid and condescending that is?"

"I am not trying to insult you or anything," Blaine said sternly with lightning in his eyes.

Kurt started pacing. "But you know me, damn it, Blaine. You  _know_  that I fight my own battles and that I don't need protection from anybody. We have each others backs. That's how it works between you and me. We are there for each other. Then how can you ask of me to back down because you're afraid I'm going to get hurt?"

"I just didn't know you would take it this way," Blaine said upset.

"How could you not know?"

Blaine bit his lip. His cheeks were blushing, but he didn't say anything.

Kurt took a deep sigh. "Blaine, we are going to be okay. Nobody will get hurt tonight. I'm sure we have nothing to worry about."

"You don't know that," Blaine just said and started walking back to the center.

* * *

When they returned to Sam's room to say goodbye they were met by a touching sight. Sam and Jackpot was rehearsing a roll-on-the-floor trick. Which meant Sam was rolling, while Jackpot jumped excitedly up and down next to him not sure what kind of game they were playing, but finding it really funny.

The tension between Kurt and Blaine was noticeable, but Sam had courtesy enough to ignore it. As predicted it was harder for him to say goodbye to Jackpot than he was willing to admit.

"I know that he is supposed to go back to the shelter tonight and all," he started when the dog was leashed and looked at him with sad brown eyes. "But do you think there's any chance I could keep him tonight? I mean with everything happening later I could really use his company."

Blaine mustered a smile. "Let me call Mary and see what I can do." Then he disappeared into the hallway.

When he was gone Sam looked at Kurt. "Is he alright?"

Kurt nodded. "He's just nervous about tonight. That's all."

Sam blinked. "Me too."

"I know," Kurt said and hugged Sam goodbye. "But it will be alright. I promise."

* * *

Jackpot was left with Sam after a successful negotiation with Mary and shortly after Blaine and Kurt was heading to Artie's place. Not much was said in the car, but when Kurt reached out his hand and put it on Blaine's thigh, Blaine intertwined their fingers and squeezed reassuringly back.

Artie had a great apartment on the main floor of a three story building outside of LA. He had received a full scholarship for college which meant that the money his mother had been saving up for college had financed a disability car and the down payment for an apartment. He had landed himself an internship at an independant film production company and his biggest dream was to have a production company of his own one day; in New York or here in LA.

Finn and Puck had already arrived and for a moment it felt like old times in the locker room of McKinley's gym. But soon enough the circumstances pulled them back to what was about to happen.

They sat down at Artie's kitchen table with a feeling of being warriors huddling up before the final battle. Puck looked around at each one of his friends, ready to encourage them. "Okay, so here we are: a crible, two queers, a teacher and me," he said with a smirk. "Shall we?"

They all nodded solemnly.

"Okay, let's go through the different scenarios for tonight," Puck started as they all looked expectantly at him. "Artie will be our driver. He has room enough for all of us in his minivan."

"Artie's coming too?" Blaine asked with a frown, careful not to get caught in Kurt's angry stare.

Finn leaned in. "I wouldn't go there if I were you, Blaine," he confessed. "I've already made that mistake. And just if you were wondering. His car doesn't have any pedals, that's how he can drive."

Artie tossed a pen across the table, which Finn easily avoided with a huge grin. "I'm a teacher. Don't you think I'm ready to duck at any given time?"

"Can we focus?" Puck asked and put Finn in place with a single glare.

"Of course," Finn said and winked at Artie when Puck wasn't looking anymore.

"Joseph is not a big guy in LA," Puck explained and opened a laptop to show them all a picture. "From what I've heard and from what Sam has told me he is nothing but a small fish in a huge sea of loan sharks. But he is protected by a pretty influential family, which makes the gangs leave him alone as long as he stay away from their clients. That's why he is called Joseph by the way. The golden son, protected by his father, but hated by the rest of the family. Who would have thought the gangs of LA was that biblical." Puck huffed out a laugh.

"Do we know how Sam got in touch with him?" Blaine asked, not really in a biblical mood.

"Joseph covers a small area around the bar where Sam worked for a short period of time. Which means that Sam must have met him before he got into trouble and from there it was pretty easy for Joseph to convince Sam that he had something to offer him. And when Sam lost his job, Joseph provided a small loan to get him back on his feet. From there everything took off in the wrong direction."

"How do we deal with him?" Finn asked, finally focused on the task ahead. "I mean, will it just be as simple as an exchange or will he have a hidden agenda?"

Blaine listened closely. This was his biggest concern too.

"Honestly, my guess is as good as yours. I don't think Joseph likes to get into trouble or fights, but he  _will_  make sure that he walks away with as much money as possible. Yesterday we agreed on a final price of $32.000. He will probably raise it with 1.000 more when we meet, which is why we will bring $33.000 but not more than that."

"What if he asks for more?" Finn asked serious.

"Then he can't have it and we are not taking it with us. If he gets a feeling we have any more money he will keep pushing. It's hard to predict his full agenda.

Everyone got silent around the table. This was exactly what Blaine had feared. He was ready to fight, it was not that, but what would the outcome be and at what cost?

"I have to tell you guys something," Blaine said after an approving nod from Kurt. "I received a very strange phone call late Saturday night from someone I've never spoken with before. The guy basically told me that Kurt was fooling around with his ex-boyfriend while I was here - and then he hung up. Two minutes later I received a picture of Kurt and Benjamin who had randomly met each other and talked for five minutes. We don't know who took the picture or who the caller was. But somebody must have been stalking Kurt for quite awhile. We can't help feeling that it could be some sort of warning from Joseph."

Puck sat thoughtful for a moment with furrowed brows. "I wouldn't put it past him, to be honest. But it's hard to tell. He definitely knows how to flex his muscles and he can seem unpredictable. But Joseph is also a man of honor when it comes to his business. Sam has told us this information himself. He will not be the one to start a fight. He and his monkey of a bodyguard will try to provoke us to strike first and  _then_  they will have the excuse they need. So whatever happens tonight; don't let them provoke any of you; no matter what they say."

They all nodded.

Puck made another search on his computer and turned it around for them to watch once more. Google earth zoomed in on the location for their meeting. "As you all can see we are going downtown, but not near the dangerous areas where the gangs rule. There are a couple of bars and restaurants near the parking lot where we are supposed to meet. Artie will stay in the van but he will keep his distance so they don't discover our option for escape. He will be close enough to see what is happening though."

"Even in the dark?" Kurt asked.

"The parking lot has a fair amount of street lights. He'll see enough," Puck assured. "If  _anything_  goes wrong and we end up in a fight one of us will signal to Artie. Then he will either call the police or come and pick us up in the van and take us out of there as fast as possible."

Artie nodded in agreement.

"Let's say the exchange goes smoothly and we leave the place," Finn said. "How can we be sure they won't return to Sam for more money; make up some stupid excuse and harass him again?

"Loan sharks may be mean if they don't get paid, but once the deal is sealed they'll back off. At the end of the day their main interest is do business again. But hopefully we can rule out that scenario by moving Sam out of LA once he's ready.

Puck looked around patiently. "Any more questions?"

The silence settled amongst them, each lost in their own thoughts. But from a common understanding and from the bonds that still tied them together after all these years a determination grew within this group of friends. And anxiousness was replaced with pride.

Artie lifted his bottle of soda in the air. "To Sam," he said softly as his familiar smile lit up the room. "Because he would have done the same thing for us in a heartbeat."

"To Sam," the rest of the group repeated, smiling back. They were ready.

Half an hour later they were all seated in Artie's van, hitting downtown LA. They each seemed to deal with the pressure in various ways. Puck, who was seated next to Artie, counted the money one last time and put them back in the huge brown envelope in his lap. Then he checked his wallet to make sure the extra cash was in place as well. Finn had withdrawn into his own world with a pair of headphones, playing music loud enough for them all to hear it anyway. He kept a steady beat with his hands on his thighs, following the drummers every move. Artie focused on driving, following the GPS and checking up on estimated time. But when ever they were stuck in a traffic he drummed nervously with his fingers on the steering wheel.

Blaine on his hand enjoyed the firm pressure of Kurt's body next to his. It calmed him down and was all he needed at this very moment. How had he even thought that Kurt shouldn't be a part of this? It had been a ridiculous fight and he owed Kurt an apology but that would have to wait for later. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and decided to text Mercedes. He had promised to update her as often as he could.

She called back immediately.

After a few words back and forth between them he handed Kurt the phone and whispered: "She wants to talk to you."

Kurt looked suspiciously. "Right now?" he mouthed back.

"I'm afraid so."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You know what this is about, right?"

Blaine nodded apologetically.

Kurt sighed and picked up the phone. "Hey Cedes," he said calmly. "So, how are things?"

She didn't miss a beat. "How  _could_  you, Kurt?" she said right away.

Kurt could almost see her standing in front of him, hands on her hips, leaning forward as to make her point crystal clear.

"How could I what?" he asked, trying to stall time.

"You know very well what I'm talking about, Kurt Hummel. Don't play games with me," she bellowed from the other end of the line. "Why did you have to tell him that the exchange was tonight!"

"Because he wanted to know, Cedes and because he  _needed_ to know," Kurt said defensively. "You should have seen him. He begged me, and to tell you truth I think he had the  _right_  to know."

"You can think all you want, but right now he is climbing the walls, that's how nervous he is!"

Kurt sighed. "Then he's just like the rest of us. You can't treat him like a child, honey. If he had asked  _not_  to know it had been different."

"I do  _not_  agree with you, Kurt. You're not the one who has to calm him down for the next couple of hours."

"No, I'm just the one who have to deal with the guys that beat up your boyfriend," Kurt replied sarcastically. She turned around instantly as all anger left and was replace by tears, making Kurt feeling guilty in a split second. "Mercedes look, I didn't mean it like that."

"No it's okay, Kurt, it's okay," she snuffled. "I'm sorry. I'm … just such a mess right now and I'm not really mad at you. I'm mad at Joseph and the entire situation."

"I know this, Cedes," Kurt said, comforting. "And you know, even if I hadn't told Sam about tonight he would have known something was going on anyway. He knows you too well by now, girl."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're right."

"Don't worry any more. Send us a lot of positive energy and …. well prayers, and before you know it we will all sit around Artie's kitchen table, laughing at silly jokes, just like last night. Good things will happen from now on." Kurt caught Blaine's eyes in the darkness of the van as he continued. "You and Sam are together and when two people in love fights together, nothing can stop them."

"Thanks, Kurt," Mercedes said and he could practically hear her smile through her tears. "Now I just need a minute to pull myself together before I go back to Sam and Quinn."

"How are things going with Jackpot?" Kurt asked to help her on her way.

She laughed now. "That is just the sweetest Golden Retriever I have ever met."

"Well, sometimes plans change, you know," Kurt admitted.

"He is seriously the cutest dog ever and he is not leaving Sam's side. I don't know what kind of deal you have the shelter, but good luck with separating those two any time soon."

"Maybe we don't have to," Kurt said. He side eyed the GPS over Artie's shoulder. "Look, I have to go now, hon. We're at the parking lot in five minutes."

"Promise me you'll all be careful."

"I promise," Kurt said solemnly. "See you later."

At arrival Puck directed Artie to a spot where he could easily see the parking lot. "Can we go through the signals again," Artie asked.

"You know the signals," Puck said with an eye roll.

"I just want to make sure."

"One arm in the air means  _pick us up_ , two arms mean  _call the police_."

"Got it," Artie said with a smirk.

"You're so stupid," Puck said through a huff of air and lowered his shoulders. They tend to pop up to his ears when he was nervous and of course Artie knew that.

"So are we supposed to be early or late for these kind of things?" Finn asked.

"We definitely don't want be late," Puck answered and check up on time for the twentieth time. "But I'm not standing there looking like a bunch of idiots either. We'll get out of the car in two minutes, then we'll be right on time."

Nobody objected. Puck was their uncrowned leader and he was doing a great job.

Those two minutes felt like an eternity and a split second at the same time Blaine thought when Puck suddenly turned around and said, "ladies, it's time to go. And remember, don't let them get to you."

The four of them stepped out, leaving Artie in the car all ready and set to interfere if needed.


	13. Pay Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a bit longer to write than I expected but it's the longest chapter so far - and I've had a blast writing it ;)
> 
> Hope you enjoy it even though it is a bit angsty.

The parking lot was surrounded by several bars, a couple of restaurants, a cafe and an ice cream and candy store, already closed for the night. A fountain on the side leading into a green area gave the place a family friendly vibe. But Blaine found it hard to imagine this location crowded with children and laughter as he was jumpy enough to expect danger lurking around any corner. He prayed it was all in his mind though.

Their main concern was the bars. Kurt had been right. For all they knew Joseph could have all the backup he needed hidden in one of them; just waiting for a cue to teach Sam's friends a lesson. Thank god they had Artie on the look out. It wasn't exactly backup but it was a safety line if nothing else.

They all walked next to each other, shoulder by shoulder, with Puck and Finn in the middle. Blaine wished he could be closer to Kurt, but with the afternoon fight still fresh in his mind Kurt would probably take it the wrong way so he reluctantly decided to stay put.

His eyes wandered ever so often to a clearing by the fountain where they were supposed to meet with Joseph but so far he couldn't see anybody there. A couple of guys were hanging outside one of the bars, smoking and cracking jokes by the sound of it and people were in general coming and going to their cars parked around the lot. Everything seemed quiet and calm; nothing was out of the ordinary. But right before they reached the clearing two men stepped out from the shadows under the trees. They were expected and Blaine was suddenly grateful to stand next to Puck, who seemed calm as a rock.

It wasn't hard to tell who Joseph was as the picture had been pretty accurate. He was a small guy in appearance; well dressed in an expensive suit and wearing a pair of spotless, top polished Italian shoes. The thin beard surrounding his mouth and his small motionless eyes gave him the authority his height couldn't offer him.

Next to Joseph stood a huge guy that Blaine could only describe as an ugly looking bodyguard type of guy. He was not taller than Finn, but more muscles and way more frightening. That had to be Big B or BB as Sam had called him. Images of this oversized monkey, standing over Sam's defenseless body flashed it's horrible face in the back of Blaine's mind.

Joseph took his time, lighting a cigarette and blowing smoke circles with squinting eyes before he spoke. "So, which one of you is Puck?" he asked and looked at them with a superior expression.

"I am," Puck answered with a steady voice. His hands were pocketed and his shoulders lowered as if he couldn't care less about Joseph.

Joseph narrowed in on him. "And the rest of the misfits are?"

"We are all friends of Sam," Puck continued.

Joseph took a long drag on the cigarette. "I didn't know Sam had any friends at all."

The big one chuckled. "He sure could have used some the last time I spoke with him."

Blaine's temper rose like a monster being poked in the middle of a nap. But he couldn't let it show. This was not about justice for Sam. This was about paying and getting the hell out of there.

"We agreed on a price for Sam's debt last night I believe," Puck said without giving the big dork a second of his time.

"And you've got the money?" Joseph asked with a tilted head.

"I told you I would," Puck confirmed.

"You did - you did," Joseph said slowly, mocking them with a sarcastically sugarcoated voice. "But I seem to have forgotten how much Sam owes us at the moment. The figure keeps rocketing to the sky and the clock is ticking. So maybe you would care to enlighten me."

It suddenly dawned on Blaine that Joseph hadn't expected to actually get paid had hoped for trouble instead.

"That's weird," Puck said without losing a beat, "your memory must be terrible."

Joseph smiled, but his eyes stayed cold as ice. "So how much money have you got?"

"32 - just like you said."

"32?" Joseph repeated and whistled. "That's impressive." He paused. "Unfortunately that was yesterday. Having that much money out there is expensive you know, it cost me every day. So I'm afraid that won't cover it anymore."

"Too bad. I was told you are a man of your word. You knew we wouldn't meet until today and yesterday I asked you how much money Sam owed you. Why would you tell me the wrong price?"

A flash of anger shadowed the cold eyes across from them before the leader got a grip on his temper again. "I  _am_  a man of my word, but that doesn't change the fact that Sam owes me more money today that he did yesterday. And if you can't come up with money tonight he will owe me even more tomorrow." Joseph shrugged indifferently.

Puck sighed tired. "So how much does Sam owe you  _today_ , Joseph?"

The loaner took his time and Blaine prayed that he wouldn't ask for more than $33,000.

"Right now it runs with $1,000 a day, but that won't last long. Tomorrow it could be $2,000. Who knows?"

"I'm not interested in tomorrow. We are closing the deal today," Puck insisted.

"Does that mean you already have $33,000?" Joseph asked.

"I do. But that's all."

"Now aren't you clever. So if I said to you the right amount of money would be $34,000 you would have a problem?"

"True, but you won't say that!"

Joseph stepped closer and blew smoke right in Puck's head. "What makes you so sure of that?"

Puck didn't move. "I have this understanding, and do correct me if I'm wrong, that you are only allowed to cover certain areas in this part of town. It's like a jurisdiction so to speak."

Joseph frowned and took a step back. "That's not connected to Sam's debt."

Puck stared back, standing solid as a rock. "Do you always stay within your jurisdiction, Joseph?"

A flicker of insecurity showed for a split second but it was all Puck needed and way more than he had hoped for. All he had was a gut feeling and a talent for bluffing.

"Of course I do," Joseph said and clenched his jaw. "If you know anything about jurisdictions you also know I'd be dead if I didn't."

"So you have never, not just once, done business outside your area?"

Joseph didn't say anything at first. Then he cracked a smile. "You're good, Puck, leader of the pack. You don't know shit, but as you said, I'm a man of my word - $33.000 it is and we're done."

"For that price you will stay away from Sam and you will never bother him again?"

Joseph shrugged. He was clearly not satisfied with how things had turned out. "If you say so," he answered indifferent.

"No, I have to know for sure," Puck insisted. "The 33 seals the deal."

"The 33 seals the deal," Joseph repeated coldly.

Puck reached for his wallet and pulled out the $1,000 which he added to the brown envelope before he handed it to Joseph.

"I can't believe you're letting them go that easy, boss," the big guy objected angrily.

"Shut up Big and get one of our guys in the bar to count the money."

Big mumbled something none of them could hear, snatched the envelope and started walking.

This time Finn spoke up. "I believe it would be fair to ask for the counting to be done out here."

Big stopped and turned around with disbelief in his small eyes.

"Ah, someone else from the pack is speaking," Joseph said and tilted his head. "Now aren't we all having fun." Then he put two fingers in the air and prompted the big oaf back.

Big threw his hands to the side. "Seriously, boss? This is ridiculous!"

"Give me the money and go get Jones," Joseph said firmly.

With his bodyguard gone and the brown envelope back between them Joseph tossed the rest of his cigarette on the ground and put it out with the tip of his shoe. "So Sam was too much of a coward to show up himself?"

A full blown hate exploded inside of Blaine and it took all his willpower to keep quiet, but they were too close now to stir things up.

"Well that's hard considering you and your guys hospitalized him," Puck said edgy.

"As far as I know he's not in the hospital anymore though. Was it Saturday he was moved by his girlfriend, a black curvy girl? Maybe he's hiding in the big van over there." Joseph pointed in the direction of Artie's car.

"It's none of your business to know where Sam is now," Puck reminded him calmly. "You are getting your money, right."

"You're right, you're right. But I  _could_  find him if I wanted to, you know."

"I'm sure you could."

Big joined them again with an obese sweaty man in tow. "I was in the middle of a game, Joe," the guy grumbled as he tried to catch his breath again. "What's the rush?"

"Jones, these gentlemen seem eager to finish our business and we need to know if that envelope contains $33,000 dollars."

Jones reached for the envelope with a sigh and sat down by the fountain. Puck followed him, watching his every move. "Who is he?" Jones asked and nodded towards Puck without taking his eyes away from the bundles.

"That's Puckerman," Joseph answered with a smile.

It was all a game to him. From the moment he had stepped out from the shadows he had been playing them. Constantly letting them know that they were in his power. It suddenly wasn't so unlikely that he would know details about Kurt and Benjamin, Blaine thought as he carefully kept an eye out for Big. He was the one who couldn't be trusted. So far Puck seemed to have some sort of control over Joseph, but the dork, that was a different matter. And as far as Blaine could tell he was building up inside. He had clearly expected something else from this meeting and he wasn't able to cover it up as well as his boss. Blaine turned out to be more right than he cared for when Big spoke up a moment later.

"I'm sure if we checked their pockets there would be a couple of grand more boss," he suddenly said and narrowed in on Kurt who was closest.

Blaine bit the inside of his cheek. If the big oaf of a misfit as much as touched Kurt he would jump right at him, no matter what.

"That's not how we do business, Big," Joseph scolded. "We have to behave and be civilized. These are good boys. They are not like you and me."

"I can make them be good, that's for sure," Big laughed as Jones and Puck returned.

"It's all there," Jones said indifferently and handed Joseph the envelope before he dragged himself back to the bar.

Joseph made a mocking expression. "Isn't that just great. Now we're all happy."

Big stepped closer to Kurt not caring too much about what his boss had said. "I bet the queer one has a pair of golden underwear underneath his fancy clothes. Maybe we should ask for them, just to seal the deal properly, you know."

Every muscle in Blaine's body tensed up, but Finn put a calming arm in front of him without a word. All they had to do was to get out of there and they didn't need any complications right now. He saw Kurt clenching his jaw and he barely dared to breathe.

Big B stepped closer to Kurt. "So, how do you wanna do it? " The disgusting guy let his eyes run up and down Kurt's body with an evil smile. "You're not getting out of here until I'm absolutely sure you're not hiding money …. anywhere."

"Don't you dare touch me," Kurt hissed and stood tall.

Blaine heartbeat was pounding in his ears as he watched the disaster approach, unable to stop it.

Big huffed out a fake laugh and looked back at Joseph with a thrilled expression on his ugly face. Joseph didn't move, clearly waiting for whatever would happen next. As for now he obviously wouldn't interfere.

"So the queer one got balls. Didn't see that, coming," Big said and roared with laughter..

Kurt rose his chin before he put the last nail in his coffin. "If the stupidity that leaves your mouth by any means is an indication of your own screwed up perception of manhood I can promise you that I'm no lesser man than you are."

"Kurt, don't!" The words slipped out in the open before Blaine could even think. And within a split second Big's eyes snapped his way and a devilish smile spread across his stubbled face.

"I see," he said satisfied. "So the queer and the pretty-boy are lovers."

Blaine closed his eyes.  _This isn't happening. This isn't happening._

"I wouldn't do you, if you were the last man on earth," Big suddenly hissed into Kurt's face. "But your boyfriend is hot and I wouldn't mind getting him to scream for me, if you know what I mean."

Kurt barely blinked and with gritted teeth he slowly replied. "If you as much as touch him I will beat you up. I swear to god I will, even if it's the last thing I do."

Blaine's world changed into slow motion as several things happened within seconds. From out of nowhere Big landed his fist at the side of Kurt's head. Blaine roared in anger and ran forward, ready to beat the crap out of the guy he now hated most in the entire world. But Puck caught him and held him back with all his might and out of the corner of his eyes he saw Kurt hit back. Big cried out in pain just as Finn got to them and dragged Kurt behind him, backing away with his hands in the air. Blaine wrestled his way out of Puck's strong arms and ran to Kurt. "Are you alright, are you alright," he kept repeating to a bent over Kurt, covering his face.

"We're not interested in fighting," Finn yelled out and side eyed Kurt with worries written all over his face. "We never were."

Joseph smiled sly. "Neither are we. Neither are we. And I believe we've just closed our deal."

"You have  _got_  to be fucking kidding me, boss," Big shouted from behind with blood streaming down his face. "This is NOT over."

Joseph licked his lips. "Yes it is my big useless friend. We're done."

"He fucking broke my nose!" Big interjected.

Joseph shrugged. "What do you want me to do? Go to the bar and tell all your friends that a queer broke your nose? Because we can do that if you feel like it. And besides, you hit first, remember. We NEVER hit first .. unless people owe us money, of course."

Blaine looked desperately for Artie, but it wasn't until Puck raised his arm in the air he remembered they were supposed to signal. It was hard to tell how hurt Kurt was but he could hardly stand on his feet and they needed to get away immediately.

"Ah, your ride," Joseph said when the van started. "Well, it was nice doing business with you, Noah Puckerman. We should do it again sometime."

"I wouldn't count on it," Puck said infuriated as he prompted Finn to get Blaine and Kurt back to the van. The last thing Blaine heard as he put Kurt's arm around his shoulder and supported him the last steps to the car was Joseph's stupid laughter.

"Say hi to Sam for me, will you?" he bellowed.

Blaine almost had to drag Kurt into the van followed immediately by Finn. Puck was the last one to jump in. "Go Artie, now. We have to get out of here. These guys give me the creeps."

Artie turned around with spinning wheels, frantically checking the rare mirror to get a glimpse of Kurt on the back seat. "What happened out there?" he asked. "What happened to Kurt?"

"Just give me a minute," Puck panted as all color drained from his face and he started shaking. Then he finally turned to the back seat. "Are we going to the hospital, Blaine?"

"I think we are," Blaine replied and started to work on Kurt.

Kurt was panicking as blood kept streaming down in his eye. "Blaine, my head feels weird. I don't know what happened." He started hyperventilating. "Is it bad?" he asked over and over again.

Blaine felt the adrenalin kick in as he took charge. He asked for paper towels and light in the car. Artie parked by the sideway, turned on all the lights and handed Blaine a stack of tissues with shaky hands. Everybody was quiet except from Kurt moaning and Blaine talking to him with a calm, steady voice.

"It's not as bad as it feels, baby," he said and moved Kurt's hand away from the side of his head. With swift movements he dried away enough blood to locate the actual wound. He kept talking to Kurt and made sure to maintain eye contact. "You have a split eyebrow," he said after a quick examination and removed Kurt's scarf from his neck. Then he put pressure on the wound with a folded clean tissue and tied the scarf around Kurt's head to maintain the pressure.

"That's one of my favorite scarves," Kurt objected weakly.

Blaine smiled. That had to be a good sign if nothing else. "I'll buy you a new one," he said reassuringly. "You can pick anyone you want."

Kurt nodded, apparently satisfied with the offer. "Do you think it will leave a scar?" he asked and put his bloody hand up to the impromptu bandage.

"I'm sure you'll end up looking like a boxer," Finn said half jokingly but then his uncertainty came through. "I mean they get split eyebrows all the time."

"Shut up, Finn," Kurt huffed out painfully. "I don't want to look like a boxer. I want to look like a Broadway star."

Blaine smiled and tightened the scarf a bit more as blood was already seeping through. "We do have to go to the hospital, Artie," he said. "You can just drop us off and then you guys can go home and wait up for the girls."

"My hands," Kurt moaned, "they are so sticky."

"I know," Blaine replied. "Anybody got a bottle of water?"

Artie leaned over Puck and opened the glove department. "Here," he said and reached back to hand Blaine a bottle.

Blaine climbed out of the car and Finn had Kurt turning in the seat so he could reach his hands out of the door. Gently Blaine poured water over the blood stains, trying to clean Kurt up as much as he could. Whenever he touched Kurt's right hand he hissed in pain. "God my hand hurts so much."

"No wonder," Blaine said, "you broke Big's nose. It must have been one a hell of a punch."

"I don't think I've ever broken anybody's nose before," Kurt said a matter of factly when he could lean back into his seat again.

Puck suddenly couldn't hold back a laugh. "No, you're probably right, Kurt. I think you would have remembered," he said, relieved that apparently Kurt was okay.

Blaine grinned and when Finn started to laugh too everybody lost it. They had been so scared and so determined to accomplish their mission that the outlet was needed. Artie looked confused at his four friends and with a head shake and a smile he started the van again. "This is crazy," he mumbled.

Puck rolled down the window and leaned out into the fresh air. Then he howled like a wolf against the moon and yelled from the top his lungs. "Sam is freeeee - Sam is freeee - and Kurt is a motherfucking badass."

Kurt smiled silly with a hand still pressed to the side of his head. And then he leaned into Blaine and closed his eyes, feeling more tired than ever.

* * *

Artie stopped by the hospital nearest his apartment. He was doing check ups there once in awhile and knew Kurt would be taken good care of. Blaine had to promise the three guys that it was okay they went home. Then he helped Kurt into the waiting room and started doing the paperwork after talking with a nurse at the counter. They had to wait for awhile but she assured him that it wasn't a busy night.

Half an hour later they were led into an examination room and told to wait for a nurse that would be with them as soon as she was done with an emergency patient.

Kurt laid down in the hospital bed thankfully. He was feeling better even though his injuries hurt more now that the adrenalin had left his body. Blaine sat down on a stool next to the bed and removed the scarf carefully from Kurt's head. The bleeding had stopped but Kurt's forehead was smeared in dried out blood and Blaine began to clean Kurt's face up with a pair of cotton pads placed next to the sink.

Kurt followed him with an intense stare and Blaine knew something was going on behind all the blue in his eyes. And soon enough Kurt grabbed his arm and stopped him. "I'm so sorry, Blaine," he said sincerely.

"About what?" Blaine asked confused.

Kurt blinked rapidly. "About putting us all in danger because I couldn't keep quiet and … about the fight this afternoon. To even imply that you don't know me or know what I'm about … that was just the stupidest thing ever … when you're the one person in the entire world who knows me the best."

Blaine put down the cotton pads and wiped a lock of wet hair away from Kurt's forehead. "I'm sorry too," he then said, overwhelmed with love. "I had no right to try to keep you away from the exchange and I  _should_  have known better."

Kurt shook his head carefully. "You knew I wouldn't keep quiet, didn't you?"

Blaine thought about it. "No … no, it was not like that. I was scared, Kurt, scared that something bad might happen."

"Something like this?"

"Yeah, maybe."

Kurt put his good hand up to Blaine's cheek. "Talk to me. I know there's more on your mind."

"I just … Kurt I know you fight your own battles and that you can take care of yourself. It's a part of who you are. But this afternoon you said that you and I have each others backs - that's how it works in our relationship. It's just very hard at times to have your back … because you don't really let me. You deal with so much stuff on your own and a part of me is longing to help you and to be there for you. But you don't really want to be looked after." He smiled. " I guess you're a bit like your dad in that way."

"Can you be more specific?" Kurt asked and listened carefully.

Blaine bit his lip. "You haven't told me that much about Dubrovski and what he has done to harass you this week. I've asked but you've just refused to tell me what was really going on."

"But I didn't want you to worry about it, Blaine. You had enough on your plate already."

"Just like Mercedes and I didn't want Sam to worry about the money."

Kurt opened his mouth as understanding showed on his face and then he closed it again. "Touche."

"Look, I know I had a lot on my mind … but I need you to trust me with your struggles, the same way I trust you with mine. And when we go home I know you'll deal with Dubrovski on your own and I won't hear any of it until it's solved."

"Blaine, I didn't realize you felt like that. I'll tell you all about Dubrovski and I promise you that we'll deal with him together. But … I also want you to know that I'm only strong because of you and maybe my biggest mistake is that I don't tell you that quite enough. If you only knew how many times I hear your voice inside of my head, helping me decide what to do. Your advice is so valuable to me. You're the rock I stand on, like a pillar inside of me, keeping me strong and steady. As long as I know you love me I'm strong enough to be who I am." Kurt sighed. " I love you way more than I should and it sometimes spirals out of control until I can hardly contain it anymore. But my heart won't settle for anything less - so here I am, depending on you and putting all my hope and love and trust in you, Blaine Anderson."

"I love you, Kurt, more than you'll ever know," Blaine whispered with tears burning in his eyes.

Kurt pulled him down for a kiss and Blaine shut out the world and sighed into the touch of their lips.

A throat being cleared from behind stirred them both and Blaine jumped up embarrassed.

"Don't worry," a nurse said with a lopsided grin, "I've walked in on couples in the middle of 2nd base, so don't sweat it."

"Interesting job you must have," Kurt mumbled amused.

"It is," she said perky "I'm Yolanda by the way and it says here on the chart that you are Kurt Hummel. And what about the boyfriend?" she looked at Blaine with a big smile.

"I'm Blaine."

"Nice to meet you guys. Okay, let's see." She took a closer look at Kurt's eyebrow and the side of his head. "Can you see alright?" she asked and pulled up a small flashlight from her pocket to have a closer look.

"Yes, I think my eye is okay. I'm just a bit dizzy," Kurt explained.

"Yeah, I can imagine." She examined the surroundings of the injury and ran her fingers over his forehead and down to his temple. Kurt moaned muffled. "You will swell up tomorrow and have a very colorful look for most of a week, but nothings broken. Your eyebrow is split though and needs some stitches."

Blaine smiled relieved. This could have turned out so much worse.

Yolanda found the supplies she needed and put it up on a small tray. "So what happened, Kurt?" she asked and regulated her stool to the right height.

"Um … some stupid douchebag hit me when I was trying to defend my boyfriend."

Yolanda got an injection ready for him and out of the corner of his eyes Kurt could see Blaine getting uncomfortable. "You can report him, you know," Yolanda said and prepared the shot.

"I better not," Kurt said. "I kind of broke his nose."

"Ah, so that's why your hand is starting to swell?"

"That could be," Kurt admitted.

"I'm going to sedate you and then we'll let the stuff work while I clean up the wound and examine your hand."

Kurt nodded and reached out for Blaine with his good hand.

"I … I'm sorry, Kurt, but I think I have to lay down," Blaine mumbled, face white as a sheet.

Yolanda looked at him surprised. "But you've just cleaned up all the blood, why are you bailing out on us now?"

"It's the needle," Blaine groaned and disappeared down on the floor. "I'm not very good with needles."

"Okay," Yolanda said and winked at Kurt. "Just stay down till it's over. I'll have him patched up in no time."

"Could you please not say patched up," it came from the floor.

"Deal," Yolanda smirked. "I'll stop saying patched up."

She worked steadily and trained on Kurt as they kept chatting along the way. Once in awhile Kurt checked up on Blaine, asking him how life was treating him .

"You're never going to let me forget this, are you?" Blaine sighed.

"Nope."

"Great."

As promised Yolanda had Kurt ready in no time. She put a bandage on him and instructed him to change it the next morning. The stitches would disappear after a week and if the wound would get infected he should attend his own doctor in New York.

Blaine had gained some color in his face again and kept apologizing to Kurt and Yolanda for his absence until Kurt gently but firmly asked him to shut up with a kiss on his cheek. He was not that dizzy anymore and the with painkillers enough in his pocket for the next couple of days and his sprained hand wrapped in a bandage too, he was ready to go to Artie's.

* * *

Mercedes was the first one to drag Kurt into a tight hug after they arrived. "I'm so sorry," she said wrecked up and with tears in her eyes. "You weren't supposed to get hurt, baby."

"I'll be okay," Kurt said. He was carefully keeping his hurting hand out of contact with anything. "I'm afraid I had it coming though. Big B might be as stupid as they come but he was clever enough to know how to get to me."

Mercedes moved on to Blaine and Kurt spotted Quinn standing next to Puck. She gave him a big smile and looked at him properly before she reached up for a hug. She was as beautiful as ever but in a more grown up way. She held on to him for a long time. "It's so good to see you and Blaine," she said, "and I'm so happy the two of you are together again. That's how I know everything in the world will be alright."

"Thank you, Quinn," Kurt said emotionally.

The next thing he saw was Finn, Puck and Artie looking anxiously at his bandages. "I'm okay," he said and smiled at them. "I think my biggest loss will be my scarf after all."

The three guys hugged him, like the weight of the world had lifted from their shoulders. Soon Blaine was back by his side, making sure he didn't need anything and that he was fine.

"How is Sam?" Blaine asked as they all huddled together on Artie's two huge couches, Kurt halfway leaning into Blaine's shoulder. Puck had organized a serving with snacks and something to drink and the way he knew his way around Artie's kitchen made Kurt realize that the friendship between the two LA guys was rock solid.

"He cried when we told him," Quinn explained and caught Mercedes' eyes. "First we didn't tell him that Kurt got hurt, but he knew something was up. I think he really needs to talk to you guys tomorrow."

Kurt just smiled. He was getting tired but he wouldn't miss this for the world, being here, with these amazing friends.

"We were going to visit him tomorrow anyway," Blaine said and kissed Kurt's hair.

"But he was very relieved," Mercedes added. "He was already sleeping with Jackpot in his arms when we left him and he might just get the best nights sleep for a very long time." Her chin started shaking. "I cannot thank each and everyone of you enough for being there for him … and for me. I don't know … what I should have done without all this support and the support from those who are not even here now. I will never forget this; never."

Quinn put her arm around her. "I'm just glad I could do something. I think we all are."

Kurt lifted his head from Blaine's shoulder. "Mercedes, you and Sam deserve everything good coming your way from now on and I'm so happy that he doesn't have to see Joseph ever again." He paused. "As for the rest of you I owe you a huge apology for what happened tonight. I was being stupid and I put us all in great danger. That was never my intention."

Puck sat down next to Quinn after making sure everybody could get to the snacks. "The way I see it, Kurt, you might have saved us all tonight," he then said.

Kurt's free eyebrow rose in confusion.

"Joseph was testing us," he explained. "He knew we weren't interested in a fight but he wanted to see how far he could push us. That's why it took him forever to stop the monkey."

"Okay, you officially lost me," Blaine said.

"When Kurt hit back he proved that we were willing fight if necessary. And then Big made a huge mistake by striking first. He was only supposed to provoke us and make  _us_  lose it."

"Why was that such a big deal?" Finn asked and looked for the snacks. Kurt reached past Blaine and grabbed a bowl of chips to hand his brother. "They could have beaten the living daylight out of us if they wanted to - no matter who started it."

"Because we were doing business," Puck explained. "You don't beat up a customer who pays. That's why he needed an excuse."

"So I basically did a good thing?" Kurt concluded satisfied and leaned back into Blaine's arms.

"I seriously didn't think you could hit that hard, Kurt," Finn said impressed.

"In all honesty it was an accident," Kurt admitted. "I wasn't aiming for his nose or anything. But that blow he gave me just hurt so bad that I hit back as a reflex."

Finn laughed. "I don't care, I mean even your dad will be proud."

"Finn you are SO not going to tell him," Kurt said shocked. "He can't know. You have to promise me."

"I can't believe it," Artie said amazed. "You're more afraid of Big Burt than you are of Big B."

They all started to laugh. "You can laugh all you want," Kurt said, still safely in Blaine's arms. "But my dad can still be kind of intimidating, even now. And today Blaine proved to me that I am a bit like my father and now I feel sorry for our future kids."

That remark made everybody laugh even more, but it also made Blaine's heart beat fiercely in his chest because this was the first time Kurt had ever mentioned kids as a part of their lives and it made him crazily happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are lovely and then I'll be back with the next chapter all of a sudden ;)


	14. Dirty Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see.
> 
> I broke my hand when I fell off my bike 11 days ago and I have to wear a cast. It made it a lot easier to write about the pain Kurt is going through with his hand - but it made it a lot harder to write!
> 
> This chapter is basically written with one finger - so you better enjoy ;)

Kurt clinged to Blaine even in his sleep and Blaine made sure to keep him close and safe. It was like they were both trapped in the same nightmare every time they fell asleep. Surreal, heartbreaking images of Kurt being chased by a huge monster covered in blood, streaming from a broken nose haunted Blaine until he would wake up sweaty and terrified; while Kurt, on his half, would jerk up with an outcry until he realized that Blaine was right there beside him and that his strong arms had never let go.

Early in the morning Kurt was whimpering in his sleep and Blaine went to the kitchen for water and painkillers. Then he woke up Kurt with gentle strokes on his cheek, whispering his name ever so softly. The blue eyes opened and struggled to focus before Kurt gratefully took the medication and drank the water in big gulps. "Didn't know it could hurt this much, " He mumbled in the dimmed light.

"What's worse?" Blaine asked and put the duvet around them again.

"The hand," Kurt replied.

"I think you need to raise it a bit, " Blaine suggested and arranged a pillow between them to elevate the swollen hand. They held on to each other for awhile, making it okay to get lost and Blaine stayed awake until he saw Kurt's face relax and his sleepy eyes close.

"I love you, " he whispered before he drifted off as well.

* * *

The next morning Blaine and Mercedes got up first and as they prepared breakfast for Kurt, they chatted away as only friends who know each other very well can do.

It took some time for Kurt to wake up but once he was seated in front of all the delicious food he forgot about the warm comfy bed and the lack of sleep. He was well covered from the nights medication and enjoyed the quiet moment he and Blaine could have with Mercedes.

While eating they talked about Mercedes future with Sam and discussed the uncertainties connected to Sam's situation. She was fully aware that it was urgent to get Sam away from LA and there was no doubt in her heart that she wanted to follow him wherever he needed to go. New York was definitely an option and the network of friends and the support Kurt and Blaine could offer them was weighing heavily on them. But she couldn't get closer to a decision before Sam was feeling better and could have a say about it all.

As they talked it got clear for the boys that Mercedes needed to spent some more time with them and the three of them decided to plan out the day together, making the most of it before Kurt and Blaine had to go back to New York the next day.

First stop on their way was the shelter where they had picked up Jackpot. They introduced Mercedes and Mary to each other because Mercedes now had to be the new contact in the adoption process. When Mercedes showed Mary a footage on her phone of Sam and Jackpot playing a game, Jackpot as confused and happy as always, a warm smile spread on Mary's face and then she teared up.

"I'm so sorry," she said and caught a tear from the corner of her eyes. "He is just such a sweet dog and he seems so happy." She handed the phone back to Mercedes. "Look, I  _am_  going to let Sam adopt Jackpot if you can promise me one thing."

Mercedes nodded and listened carefully.

"Promise me that you will take care of Jackpot if Sam suddenly can't." Mary said, pleading. "I need to know that he won't be let down again."

"I promise," Mercedes said with a grateful smile. "You don't know how much this will mean to Sam and I'll look after both of them."

"Then that's settled," Mary said firmly. "Is it alright if I visit Sam at the facility? Then I'll bring the papers for signing and say a proper goodbye to Jackpot."

"Of course," Mercedes said beaming. "Sam will be happy to meet you."

The two women exchanged phone numbers and Mary got the address for Vineyard Recreation Center.

Next stop was Sam. They would spent the afternoon with him at the center and then take Mercedes out for dinner when Sam was going to therapy later.

He wasn't in his room when they arrived and neither was Jackpot so they all continued outside to the park. They found him sitting on a bench with the dog jumping around his crutches. "I know, I know," Sam chuckled. "I just need a break."

As Mercedes moved forward Blaine held Kurt back with a gentle tuck in his sleeves and together they watched the happiness in front of them. Sam got up the moment he saw Mercedes and dragged her in for a long warm hug. Then he put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her with a smile still on his face. Jackpot had given up with the crutches and was lying on the grass instead, as if he knew that this was going to take a while.

Blaine snuck his hand into Kurt's hand and squeezed it gently. "Now I'm ready to go home," he said.

"Kurt turned his head and smiled "I'm happy to hear that because you were missed like crazy."

When Sam finally saw them his eyes snapped to Kurt's face immediately and a haunted expression overtook the relaxed smile they had just seen. "I'm so sorry, Kurt," he whispered. "This was never supposed to happen."

"Hey, hey, I'm okay," Kurt said and hugged Sam when he saw tears building. "It was worth everything to get those lunatics off of your back. Cause god they were mean!"

Sam blinked to chase the tears away. "Does it hurt?"

"Some; but I only took one blow. I can't imagine how much pain you must have been in."

Sam shrugged. "It doesn't matter now."

"There you see."

"You really broke BB's nose?"

"Technically, yes, but the truth is I just got so mad that I didn't really think." Kurt bit his lip, not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed.

A smile suddenly played around Sam's mouth. "Then, technically thank you."

"Your welcome," Kurt said and suppressed a smirk. "You did the same thing for me, by the way, back in high school, remember?"

"I did?"

Kurt nodded. "Right before I had to transfer to Dalton, you, Mike and Artie had a little chat with Karofsky."

The memory dawned on Sam. "Yeah, that blow convinced Quinn to date me, sooo technically you did me a favor." He winked to Mercedes before he looked back at Kurt and laughed.

By nibbling on Sam's pants, Jackpot demanded his full attention again. "I know. My time-out is up, right?" he said with a smile.

The rest of the afternoon was passing by faster than any of them cared for and it was hard for Sam to say goodbye. He was still beyond fragile but it was time for somebody else to help him in the process; something they all seemed to be aware of as they parted.

* * *

On the flight back to New York Wednesday morning, Kurt finally told Blaine all about his encounters with Dubrowski and for each detail he revealed the furrow between Blaine's eyes deepened. "Honey, you cannot work in such a toxic environment. You have to do something," he burst out when it all got too much.

"But what can I do?" Kurt asked. "It's just like high school, believe me, if you tell the teacher everything gets ten times worse."

"But that doesn't mean you can't fight back. A guy like that will never back down until someone stops him."

Kurt learned back at the head rest. "I know, I just ... I honestly don't know how to do it without starting a war."

Blaine rubbed Kurt's knuckles with his thumb. The sprained hand was still wrapped up in a bandage but he had gotten used to sitting by Kurt's left side so they could hold hands when they wanted.

"Let's do some research on him. You know go all 007 on him until we know every little detail about his miserable life," Blaine suggested with a glimpse in his eyes. "I could stalk him, find his weaknesses and strike when he expects it the least."

"You know, for a man with diplomatic skills higher than Mount Everest, you're sure playing dirty right now." Kurt chuckled and scooted a bit closer. He recognized the coil building up in his abdomen as his eyes dropped to Blaine's parted lips. "With that being said," he continued, "I'll admit that I love it when you go all Secret Agent on me."

Blaine raised an eyebrow and took a sip of the drink on the small table in front of him. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"I actually  _am_ a Secret Agent. I've just never told you. It has been waaaay too dangerous!"

"Can I see your gun?" Kurt asked and pointed his lips to prevent a smile.

Blaine almost choked and put down his plastic cup in a hurry. "You did  _not_  just say that," he moaned.

"But I just want to hold it. It doesn't have to go off or anything," Kurt explained with big innocent eyes.

"Kuuurt, you're going to be the death of me."

Kurt moved closer until their faces were only inches apart. "Yes I am and I'm so sorry if my next question come across as ... inappropriate. It is not my intention by far," he whispered. "But do you carry a big gun or a small one?"

Blaine bit his lip hard to hold back an unholy sound before he narrowed in on his teasing boyfriend. The touch of his hand on Kurt's changed from gentle strokes to suggestive slides, back and forth between Kurt's fingers. "Big," he then mouthed back before he glanced at people around them. When he was sure nobody was listening he leaned into Kurt. "Baby, are you suggesting that we do it on the plane?"

"It would be a first, right?"

"Yes ... yes, it definitely would. Damn it you smell good."

"Do you know what it's called, to do it on a plane?" Kurt's voice was husky. He was getting way too excited.

"The Mile High Club," Blaine whispered. "But isn't it kind of illegal?"

"Only if you get caught."

Blaine snorted and squeezed Kurt's hand. "It's not exactly something I've put on my bucket list ... or I mean, it could be ... I just never ... thought about it."

"But you are tempted."

"More than you know."

"Then what is holding us back?"

"Won't people figure it out if we're leaving at the same time?"

"We just have to be smart about it," Kurt said and spread his fingers wider apart to make more room for Blaine's hand. The gesture didn't go unnoticed as the amber eyes in front of him darkened.

"Then tell me how, baby."

Kurt turned in his seat so he was facing Blaine directly. As he spoke he looked around ever so often for eavesdropping passengers nearby. "I'll go first to the restroom in the back. That one will be less guarded by the staff. Then you wait for two minutes and come knocking three times on the door and I'll let you in. We don't have a lot of time. Ten minutes tops, so we have to be quick."

"What if someone gets in line before me?" Blaine asked. He chest was heaving ever so slightly and Kurt knew he was turned on.

"Usually people don't get in line. They stay in their seats until the sign is turned off. But  _if_  it happens you just cough outside the door and then I know you can't make it."

Blaine slowly moved their connected hands up on Kurt's thigh rubbing small circles closer and closer to his crotch. Kurt spread his legs slightly, biting his lips red and wet.

"Shit, Kurt, I want it to be now, please."

"What's the matter, baby? Are your pants getting tight?"

"Yes," Blaine huffed out and rolled his eyes.

With a victorious smile on his face Kurt got up slowly, knowing by the tingling sensation in his body that his boyfriends eyes was glued to his ass. And it felt amazing and empowering.

The two minutes alone in the restroom felt like an eternity and the thought of Blaine's eager mouth and the bulge in his pants was nearly impossible to tame. Finally three knocks on the door announced his sexual rescue and he could let his man in, pink cheeked and ready.

The minute the door was locked behind them Blaine pushed Kurt up against the wall and kissed him, mouth wide open, sucking on his lips and his tongue until Kurt was panting and his cock begged for room enough to expand. The space around them were so limited that creativity was highly needed.

He removed himself from Blaine's warm mouth and tried to catch his breath. "We have to move fast, remember? he whispered close to Blaine's ears.

Blaine just nodded, with eyes darker than the midnight hour.

"Now turn around for me."

Blaine turned slowly until he faced the mirror and Kurt could catch a glimpse of his dishevelled expression before he began sucking wet kisses across his neck. With a moan Blaine tried to reach for Kurt's erection behind him but was stopped immediately. "No touching, baby."

"Please, Kurt, I need to feel you."

"And you can," Kurt whispered back and pushed his hard on against Blaine's ass.

"That is not enough." Blaine whined.

"Easy, my sweet lover," Kurt mumbled and opened Blaine's pants with his left hand before he reached down and cupped the outline of his man's throbbing cock. He let Blaine grind against his hand and thrust his own pelvis forward for equal friction. What he would give for the opportunity to be buried balls deep.

"I wish you could fuck me," Blaine panted.

"And I want to, believe me, but there is not enough time and not enough room," Kurt replied and pulled Blaine's pants down until his cock and ass were free. "Now look at you, you're so beautiful like this."

Their eyes met once more in the mirror as Kurt grabbed Blaine's cock, stroking it with a firm grip. It was warm and hard, skin real soft, familiar but still exciting and so different from his own. He loved it and he loved that  _he_  exclusively could have access to it. It was  _his_. It belonged to  _him_  alone and it was an intoxicating thought. It made him want to claim it.

Blaine followed the movement as he buried his fingers in Kurt's chestnut hair behind him. The sight was overwhelming and powerful. Blaine's complete surrender and his anticipation, mixed up and expressed in raw physical reaction.

"Fuck, why is this so hot?" Blaine breathed out through wet lips. His chest expanded and his hips pushed forward even harder. Kurt focused on the lean stretched neck in front of him, tasting what for him was the essence of Blaine, the smell and the feel of his skin, the jawline marked sharply and the subtle beat of a pulse right beneath it. He pushed Blaine's legs a bit further apart as much as the pants would allow and let his hand trail from Blaine's cock down to his balls and squeezed gently. He continued this way, giving all the sensitive spots attention, pushing Blaine to the limit.

Kurt felt the coil build up deep down in his stomach and his balls tightened painfully. Everything he saw in that mirror made his own cock twitch beyond control. And he had to muffle a deep moan against Blaine's back.

"Kuuurt, I'm so close now. You have no idea."

"Then come for me, baby," Kurt whispered. "Just come."

With a few more strokes from Kurt's hand Blaine bent over the sink as the orgasm rushed through his body and pushed him over. And a deep moan left his mouth. Kurt felt his body tense up and with an explosion that took him by surprise, orgasm hitting like lightning. He muttered a "shit" as the warm semen spilled in his pants. That had definitely not been a part of the plan.

Blaine's legs were shaking when he turned around to kiss Kurt again, sloppy and ridiculously happy. "You just came in your pants, didn't you?" he asked and put their foreheads together.

"Yes, I did," Kurt admitted, still climbing down from the rush. "And in about thirty seconds it will get really gross."

Blaine closed his eyes tight and chuckled. "God Kurt, this will  _definitely_  be something to remember. Now let me save you from disaster." He opened Kurt's pants carefully and grabbed a stack of paper towels and together they cleaned up the best they could.

"The pants are okay," Kurt said, "but I refuse to sit for three more hours with wet underwear."

"Then you just have to take them off."

Kurt checked up on time, they had already been in here for too long. "Can you rip them apart, then I don't have to get my pants off? We have to get out of here."

Blaine couldn't help laughing. This was turning into a bizarre situation. Kurt grinned. "Just do it, baby. I'm serious."

Blaine ripped them apart down the seam and with a teasing smile and suggestive movements he removed them and threw them in the trash.

"Now you owe me both a scarf and some new underwear," Kurt stated.

"Well,  _I'm_  not the one spilling in your pants," Blaine snorted before he cleaned himself up and washed the area around the sink.

Kurt hugged him from behind, completely satisfied and happy. "If you hadn't looked so damn hot with your pants down around your ass, I would have been totally cool."

A hard knock on the door made them both freeze. "Excuse me, gentlemen," a strict female voice said from outside. "I am going to ask you to come out of the restroom now. We have a policy about only one passenger in there at a time. And people are standing in line now."

Kurt bit down on his knuckles, trying so desperately not to laugh. Blaine winked and took a deep breath before he unlocked and snapped the door open. A female flight attendant with a lot of makeup on and red hair pulled too tight back was staring firmly at them.

Blaine put on his most charming smile. "Oh, I'm so sorry for occupying the room, we didn't realize it would take that long. My boyfriend here was in pain and we simply wanted to check up on his bandage."

Kurt immediately put his hand to the side of his head and picked up his most rehearsed miserable expression.

The flight attendant, with the name tag Sarah, changed her demeanor completely. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you were …," she didn't finish the sentence but let it hang ever so awkwardly in the air.

"That we were what?" Blaine asked and played confused.

"Um, you know .. being intimate," she said embarrassed with a lowered voice.

"Oh …. oh," Blaine repeated with a frown.

"I'm sorry, it wasn't to indicate anything. We just frequently have couples who try to join .. the Mile High Club."

Kurt held carefully around his sprained hand. "Is that even a thing?" he asked serious. "I thought it was more like a joke."

"No," Sarah said, now blushing from all the awkwardness between them. "No, that's definitely a … thing." She cleared her throat and brushed off imaginary dust from her skirt. "Is there anything I can do for you, sir," she said and smiled at Kurt. "Maybe there is a doctor on the plane. I could ask on the speaker."

Kurt shook his head. "I think I'll be fine now. I just need to sit down and rest."

"Oh, of course," Sarah said flustered and made room for them to pass her. "Look, I'll bring you a blanket and a glass of cold water, and if there is anything else you need, just ask for Sarah and I'll make  _absolutely_  sure that the rest of the flight will be as comfortable as possible."

"That's very kind of you," Blaine said and flashed another charming smile. Then he took Kurt by the hand and squeezed as hard as he could, making sure that neither of them broke their poker faces.

They both got back to their seats and in no time Sarah had brought an extra blanket, two soft drinks, peanuts and a newspaper. "Just to make up for my wrong assumptions. And if you need a more private and clean place next time you can come to the staffs restroom."

It was just more than Kurt could handle and he had to partially hide his face under the blanket not to explode from laughter. He put his right hand to rest on Blaine's belly and the minute Sarah left a bubbling suppressed laughter made his hand jump up and down. Well covered underneath the blanket, the boys laughed as quietly as possible.

* * *

"Oh my god what happened to you?" Charleen said as she was the first one to bump into Kurt at the theater the next day. With one hand covering her mouth the other touched the side of his head. He had been able to lose the bandage this morning and the wound was only covered by a patch. But the blue, yellow and purple color spreading from the impact were impossible to miss. He hugged her and winked with the other eye. "A minor disagreement. I'm okay though and things got solved in LA."

"I'm happy to hear that. I know Santana is going there next week. She is still trying to convince Brittany to join her, but I'm not sure it will work out."

"That's a very casual way to mention your girlfriends ex."

Charleen looked secretive. "Santana has been very convincing lately," she said with a dimpled smile. "She is mine now."

Kurt hummed. "I believe so too." He peaked through the door to the theater room. "So anything I should know before I enter the lions cage?"

"Just that a lot of people thought you weren't coming back and that Vladimir has been filling in for you. They have done nothing but Coalan scenes for three days and it's safe to say that Vladimir is one of the most well rehearsed understudies I've seen without officially being an understudy."

Nothing of this came as a surprise but Kurt still felt uneasiness sneak up on him. Did he really know how far Dubrovski was willing to go to secure his nephew the main lead? Would he now have to face a cobweb of lies that would get him fired in the end, Stevenson or not?

"I better face the monster," Kurt said with a sigh and braced himself.

Charleen stopped him with a gentle tuck. "If anybody can tame him it's you."

"I'm not trying to tame anybody, " Kurt mumbled. "I'm just trying to survive." Then he entered the theater room.

Within a minute he was surrounded by cast members and dancers, thrilled to see him again, talking all at once and asking questions about his absence and his black eye. It was truly moving and Kurt tried to answer without giving too much away. He kept an open eye out for Victor who seemed determined to steal a hug. The guy was a creep; one of those guys who didn't respect personal space and it was annoying given the fact that Kurt in no way had encouraged the contact.

In all the commotion it took awhile before everybody realized that Dubrovski was watching the heartfelt encounter from stage, arms crossed, just dying for them to notice him. Next to him Vladimir was tensing up with the script clutched in his hands. He shot Kurt a small smile and then side eyed his uncle nervously. That was all it took for Kurt to know he was in deep trouble.

Dubrovski jumped down on the main floor and approached the group with a determined stride. Silence spread around Kurt like a TV being muted with a quick slide. The director measured him with a motionless expression until his eyes lingered on the side of Kurt's head and a judgemental hiss escaped him. "What are you doing here, Hummel?" he asked coldly.

Kurt braved up. "I told you I would be back by Thursday and here I am."

"And I told _you_  that if you were not here by Monday you would be out of a job."

Kurt opened his mouth to protest but Dubrovski stepped closer with a quick move. "You're fired, Kurt. Pack up all the stuff in your dressing room and clear out. But leave the costumes, Vladimir will need them." Then he turned around and headed for the stage again.

"You can't fire me, " Kurt yelled out, shaking from anger.

"Try me," Dubrowski bellowed back, still walking. Then he jumped up back on stage. "Okay everybody, let's gather round. It's time for rehearsals."

The cast and crew standing around Kurt didn't move an inch as the entire theater room vibrated with conflicting emotions from the floor all the way up to the soaring ceiling. Then Kurt got a grip of himself and backed away slowly. "It's okay, guys," he said quietly. "Do what he tells you to do. If not for me then for Cordelia." He mustered an encouraging smile and turned around before he headed out the door.

As he was outside he found a small alley and sat down on a fire escape. The tears running down his cheek took him by surprise. He should feel outraged and pissed instead of defeated and broken. He called Blaine before he could even control his voice.

"What happened, baby?" Blaine asked the minute he picked up.

Kurt took a shaky breath. "I got fired. I actually got fired in front of everybody. He wanted to humiliate me in public and now I can't think straight."

"But didn't you say that Dubrowski couldn't fire or hire? Only the CEO could do that ... what was his name?"

"Stevenson."

"Yes, him."

"But I don't know what Dubrovski has told him. For all I know he could have been lying to his teeth about me, making Stevenson agree to let me go."

"Or he is bluffing and hope you'll leave without a fight."

"But that doesn't make sense. I'm on a contract and there will be paperwork to do."

"Which means they can only fire you have breached the contract," Blaine reminded him softly.

"But I have, don't you see. I left for three days without permission and I'm not sure Dubrovski's dirty tricks will be taken to consideration. I don't know how to play this game anymore, Blaine. I'm sick and tired of watching everything I say and do to make sure he can't use it against me. I honestly don't know what to do."

"Maybe you should just stick with the truth, honey. Call Stevenson and tell him how it is. Tell him about Sam if you have to."

"And what if I really am fired and Dubrovski has been feeding Stevenson with a lot of crap? My reputation could be damaged."

"But it's not, baby, I promise you. Look I'm at the office right now, but I can be in Manhattan within half an hour. You just tell me to come."

Kurt dried away his tears and considered his options. "Let me call Stevenson first," he finally said. "And if this turns out to be serious damage control I will need you here."

"Sure, just let me know."

Kurt hung up and willed his shoulders back to a relaxed position. Then he closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. Even if he would lose this battle it wouldn't be the end of his career and it wouldn't be the end of Cordelia. He had come too far. There were always other options and different ways. Wasn't he the living proof of that?

He searched for Stevenson's number. It was time to speak up no matter what.


	15. Fried Shrimp

Kurt pressed the phone close to his ear, trying to concentrate with the traffic passing by in the background. First he got hold of Stevenson's secretary but a single beep soon put him through to the CEO of The Ensemble.

"Kurt Hummel," Stevenson replied with a raspiness only years of smoking could cause. "What a pleasure. I've been wanting to get my ass down to the theater to check up on things but it's been insane around here. I think I owe my secretary one hell of a Christmas bonus." He bellowed out a laugh as if it was the funniest thing he had said in years.

Kurt cleared his throat uncertain what to make of the warm greeting. "I ... um … I don't know how to put this, sir," he started. "But I think I just got fired by Dubrowski."

"What?" Stevenson spat out. "That's ridiculous! He can't fire a flying fuck."

"Well someone should tell him that because I'm not exactly welcome anymore. Even though ... I have to admit that he technically might have a point."

"It has to be one hell of a point and with my knowledge of Dubrowski I bet that's no point at all." He paused. "Kurt, where are you now?"

"Outside the theater."

"Come around the office. It's only two blocks away and I'll cancel my 10 o'clock meeting. We need to talk ASAP!"

"Okay," Kurt stuttered and got up from the metal stair he had been sitting on. "I'll be there."

"And Kurt"

"Yes."

"You're not fired."

Kurt closed his eyes and let the relief rush through his body. "Thank you, sir. Thank you very much."

He texted Blaine as he walked.

_Not fired. On my way to Stevenson's office. Talk to you later. Love you more than you know._

Stevenson was a character of his own. He reminded Kurt of an old-fashioned middle aged Newspaper Editor, as he stood there in a white dress shirt with red suspenders, a chewed down pencil between his choppy fingers to imitate a cigarette, and a cup of coffee glued to the other hand. Every inch of his huge desk was covered in papers, documents, post-it's and stains of coffee.

"Come in, come in," he said to Kurt as he searched for somewhere to put his cup. Then he almost placed the pencil between his lips until he realized his mistake and threw it down on the desk with a head shake. "Trying to quit," he explained with a sigh and pointed to a chair. "Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you. I'm good for now, " Kurt replied. There was something about Stevenson he really liked and he already felt so much better as he looked around the office curiously. The wall behind the CEO was covered in framed pictures and billboards from numerous plays, some were known and some Kurt had never heard of.

Stevenson followed his eyes and smiled. "Can't wait to get "A Song For Cordelia" up there to tell you the truth. And hopefully without too much drama," he said and buzzed his secretary. "No calls until Mr. Hummel and I are done." Then he sat down behind the huge desk and narrowed in on his guest.

"Kurt, I want you to know that I think very highly about you and the play you have written. And I'm not saying that out of courtesy or to be polite. Hell, I'm not sucking up to anybody so you can trust my words. I see so much potential in you and Blaine as a creative couple and I'm here to get you as far as I can and to push the play forward. That is my agenda."

"Thank you, sir. That's really generous of you," Kurt said overwhelmed.

"That's why Cordelia was never meant for Dubrowski. I had a completely different director in mind when I bought the play, but even I can't control everything behind this desk." Stevenson pursed his lips and paused. "I am so fucking furious that Dubrowski tried to pull a trick like this and I want you to know that his blow is aimed at me. It has nothing to do with you."

"It doesn't feel that way, though," Kurt answered.

"I know and I promise to fill you in on some more details but first I need to hear your side of the story."

For some reason Kurt decided not to lay it all on the table right there. He  _could_  have told about the full extent of the harassment, the change of time schedules he wasn't told about and the endless hours sitting on a chair doing nothing; but he refused to be the one running home to mama, whining. So he kept it to a minimum and explained how hard it had been to get time off to visit Sam and how he had been forced to go without permission when the LA situation had gotten worse.

Stevenson listened carefully with his hands in front of him, fingertip to fingertip, just nodding once in awhile. "You should have asked me instead of Dubrowski," he said when Kurt had wrapped up his story. "I could have given you time off."

"I'm not sure it would have made any difference," Kurt said. "If it hadn't been about this then it would have been about something else."

"Maybe. Which is why I should have warned you about our Russian friend before rehearsals even started. It was naive of me to think he would behave," Stevenson said with regret. "What do you know about Dubrowski?"

Kurt shrugged uncomfortably. "Just the regular gossip."

"Then you probably know that his reputation leaves a lot to wish for and that he single handedly has made sure that a lot of doors have been slammed in his face. He blames everybody else, but people in the industry have seen right through him a long time ago. As a director I'm sure he's highly qualified but he manages to ruin everything with his condescending attitude. And that's putting it nicely. Anyway, as you know The Ensemble is owned by the Bartell family and they met Dubrowski at a gallery opening. One thing lead to another and as soon as they heard he had worked at the Russian Opera they offered him two seasons at The Ensemble." Stevenson moaned just retelling the story. "I managed to cut it down to three plays, where "Cordelia" is the biggest set-up and the second play he's directing. Dubrowski and I have argued about every fucking thing you can imagine and hiring you as Coalan was one of the biggest fights. I'm sure you know why by now."

"Yes," Kurt huffed out, "I think I have that one figured out."

"Honestly, if it wasn't for Charleen and her ability to handle the crises behind his back it would have been an even bigger disaster than it is now. The regulars know from the last play what to expect, but the rest of you would be lost without her."

Kurt smiled for the first time since he entered the office. "That is a very accurate way to describe her. She is making such a difference on a daily basis and I already consider her a friend."

"Good, good. And what is your impression of Vladimir. Is he any good?"

Kurt thought about it. "I honestly can't tell you. He is doing okay being King of the Fairies I think ... it's just that Coalan is so much more demanding and I haven't seen him perform a lot."

Stevenson hummed agreeingly. "The kid is alright and I actually feel sorry for him. He is only 19 years old and has time enough to make it, but Dubrowski is dead on determined to push him forward. His mom works in costumes by the way. We are blowing the budget on that account and had to hire extras."

"I can only imagine," Kurt said. "To sew everything from scratch instead of renting our costumes always seemed a bit weird to me if I may be so frank."

Stevenson looked puzzled at Kurt. "As far as I remember we were not allowed to alter Ally's costumes, and Eva, who is head of the department, felt it was too much of a compromise if the outfits couldn't be tailored. She was also hesitant about adding costumes if she couldn't find the matching fabric."

Kurt moved forward in his seat. Something was wrong here. "No, that was not the offer made and I know it because Ally showed me the email before she send it. Of course alterations were allowed. The Queen of Evil will be ridiculous if her gowns doesn't fit. Ally only asked to be consulted during big alterations."

"Is that so?" Stevenson asked confused and grabbed a pile of documents from the desk. He quickly went through contracts and offers, connected to Cordelia.

"I'm sure Ally still has that email," Kurt added.

"No, no, I believe you. It just makes you wonder, doesn't it?" Stevenson mumbled and suddenly stopped browsing. His eyes quickly ran down the document in his hand. "Damn it," he said when he had found whatever he had been looking for. "He made Eva sign the final evaluation, of course."

Kurt swallowed hard. It had not been his intention to rock the boat any further, it was stormy enough as it was, but it  _did_  look like Dubrowski had gone out of his way to secure jobs for both Vladimir and his mom. "I'm sorry if I have complicated the matter, sir."

"You have not complicated anything, Kurt, on the contrary. I think you have made everything crystal clear. Unfortunately I'm forced to deal with Dubrowski until his contract is up ... unless ... someone files a complaint that proves once and for all that he compromised the production."

Kurt heard the suggestion phrased in the statement, loud and clear, but decided to ignore it for now. He had to be smart no matter how trustworthy Stevenson seemed to be. "So, what do I do now?" he asked and steered skillfully out of troubled waters.

The pencil was back between Stevenson's fingers as he got lost in his own thoughts. Then he snapped back and looked at Kurt. "Take the rest of the day off," he said determinedly. "I'll meet up with Dubrowski this afternoon and put things straight. Tomorrow you'll go back to the theater as if nothing has happened and if the moron as much as lifts an eyebrow about your return, you call me."

* * *

Kurt took the steps two at a time up to the loft. It would be pretty interesting to see Dubrowski's face tomorrow and he couldn't wait to tell Blaine all about the meeting with Stevenson. He found Blaine and Ally sitting at the kitchen table. Ally was sketching and had several rough drafts spread all over table. Blaine listened to a beat from his computer, lost in his music as always. But the minute he discovered Kurt he jumped up, dragged him in for a hug and planted a big wet kiss on his mouth.

"Don't mind me," Ally said behind them with a huge grin.

Kurt winked at her over Blaine's shoulder. "Sorry, but I haven't seen my man for two hours and I've missed him." Kurt held his arm out at invited her into a group hug.

She got up and joined them willingly. She hummed into the hug when her body suddenly froze. "Kurt, do I smell Chinese?" she asked seriously..

"Oh yes you do. I thought you guys could use a little something for lunch."

Ally cupped Kurt's cheeks with her hands. "Please tell me you have bought shrimp."

"You don't even like shrimp," Blaine said and grabbed the plastic bag from Kurt's hand. "You are always complaining about all the grease and how it's practically a sin to destroy food by frying it."

Ally rubbed her stomach with a sheepish smile. "I knooow, but people change, and right now I want shrimp." She lingered on the plastic bag in Blaine's hand with begging eyes.

"Whoa, we better save your drafts first," Kurt pointed out and cleared out the table in a hurry as Blaine opened all the small Chinese boxes and let the delicious smell fill the loft. It only took Ally two seconds to locate the box she wanted..

"Now isn't that the most amazing thing," she gushed and sat down with a hungry expression. "So, we're dying to hear about your meeting," she said and grabbed the first shrimp before she had anything else.

Kurt slowly poured chicken and curry up on his plate. He suspiciously monitored Ally and her new found love for fried food until Blaine prompted him to say something with a nudge. "Yes ... um well, basically Dubrowski was bluffing about the firing. I'm just not sure what he thought he could accomplish by it because Stevenson hadn't heard the first word of the matter. I obviously came clean about the trip to LA and filled him in on the situation about Sam. And he was very understanding about the circumstances. Then he told me how Dubrowski had been a pain in the ass ever since he started and Stevenson is just fighting for everybody to survive until the contract is up. Anyway, as we were talking about the play and the production overall I discovered that  _somebody_  must have misread the offer about renting our costumes, claiming that alterations were off limit. And that's why they declined our original offer. And now they are using half of their budget on new costumes."

Ally stopped eating. "But that doesn't make sense. Of course they were allowed to alter."

Kurt waved his fork in the air. "Well it made a lot of sense for the sweet director, 'cause suddenly his sister got hired as an extra in the costumes department."

"That is outrageous," Blaine exclaimed. "A complete lack of respect for other people's money."

Ally shook her head and grabbed a handful of shrimp more, ignoring all the other boxes. "When is Opening Night?"

"About a month from now."

"They'll need an army to pull that off," she stated right away.

Kurt nodded. "That's why I would stay by the phone if I were you."

"You think they'll rent our costumes anyway?" Blaine asked

"You bet."

"Why don't they just fire the guy," Blaine continued. "He must have fucked up enough to have breached the contract several times."

"I don't think it's that simple," Kurt answered. "Believe me, Stevenson's fingers are itching. But Dubrowski is a friend of the Bartell family and Stevenson is basically trying to be loyal to his employer."

"That sucks," Ally said and licked the grease off of her fingers with a satisfied sigh.

Blaine looked at the empty box in front of her and then at her clean plate. "You just ate all the shrimp, didn't you?" he said frowning.

"I did?" Ally asked surprised. "Well, my stomach  _does_  feel a bit weird, so technically you  _could_  be right. Look, I'll buy Chinese next time; I promise."

When they were all done eating they decided to turn the afternoon into a mini boot camp and get started for real on their next project. Blaine rolled out their transportable whiteboard and made five circles, each connected to an arrow, pointing into the center of the board. In the first three circles he wrote  _homeless_ ,  _drag queens_  and  _gang_   _members_. "We've talked about five groups of misfits and we still need to think of two more. Here in the middle we have our "club-situation" where they meet and share a common passion for music among people who don't judge them."

"Ah yes, the club-situation," Kurt repeated happily. "Club could be a part of the title." He turned to Ally. "Are you okay with the ideas so far?"

"Are you kidding? I get to do drag outfits. This is so cool."

Kurt laughed. "I should have guessed that was a secret dream of yours."

"It's not secret at all, honey."

"I'm sorry to put your drags on hold, Ally," Kurt then said, "but I've worked a great deal on the two homeless guys and I was wondering if we could start there.. It's only ideas, but their voices are pretty solid in my head and that's usually a good sign."

Blaine divided the board in two and wrote "Homeless Guys" on the top of the blank side. "Keep talking, baby, and I will write."

Kurt cleared his throat, watching Blaine's back carefully. "I want one of the guys to be a pianist. He will be a key musician in the club, but I also want him to be significant for the storyline overall." Blaine wrote on the board as Kurt was talking. "I imagine him with dark, curly hair, which he constantly tries to control."

"That's very specific," Blaine mumbled and added:  _dark haired, curls._  "Anything else?" He turned around and got caught in Kurt's blue stare.

"Yes, there is one more thing," Kurt said and maintained eye contact. "I want his voice to be soft as velvet and at the same time crispy and energetic. And ... I want him to have a smile that can light up the room like there is no care in the world."

Blaine's lips parted in realisation as Kurt silenced. "Kurt ... I cannot play that part and especially not if it's a big part."

Kurt smiled mysteriously. "Why?"

"I'm not trained like you," Blaine stuttered. "I haven't been on a theater stage for years."

"Didn't you do theater in Chicago?"

"Yes, but not the big parts. I haven't had a significant part since Junior year at McKinley and that's like ages ago."

Kurt got up and faced Blaine as he took his hands, like he always did when things were important. "Please hear me out just for a moment. There is no doubt in my mind that you can do it. So if you're having second thoughts because you're afraid you're not good enough you have nothing to worry about; I promise. But if you'd rather focus on other things I get it; I really do. And I will respect it. But ... this is a dream of mine; to stand next to you on a Broadway stage. I would love for us to share that unique experience."

Blaine's expression softened. "It's really one of your dreams?"

"More than you can imagine ... and it  _has_ been ever since we watched "Wicked" at the Gershwin Theater. Remember the Wall Of Fame in the hallway and how we promised each other we would be up there?"

"Of course I remember. I will never forget that night, Kurt."

"So ... what do you say?" Kurt asked softly.

A snuffling sound disturbed them from behind. "Don't mind me," Ally said and all teary eyed.

They both looked at her frowning. "What is  _wrong_  with you, girl," Kurt said confused.

"I have just ... been very emotional ... lately," Ally managed to say between sobs. "And you guys are so much in love and everything you said, Kurt, was sooo beautiful."

Kurt narrowed in on her and folded his arms. "Is there something you haven't told us, Ally?" he asked suspiciously.

She blew her nose with a loud sound. "What do you mean?"

"Well, if it's not obvious I'm not going there," Kurt said squinting.

Ally looked at him with big eyes. "Oh my gosh," she breathed out and clasped her hand over her mouth. "Is Fred going to propose to me? He is, isn't he?"

The hope in Kurt's eyes died and his shoulders slouched. "Not that I know of, no."

Her cheeks turned deep pink. "Oh thank god, because I honestly cannot deal with that kind of pressure right now. It would just be .. too much."

"Why would that be such a terrible idea?" Blaine asked. "You guys love each other, right?"

"Of course," Ally said. "I'm never letting him go. We're for life. I'm just not … the marrying kind. It's too formal and too conventional. But lately Fred has kind of hinted it and it freaks me out."

"Hey, hey," Blaine said and got down next to her. "You will be fine."

"But it's just a freaking piece of paper," she objected. "How can that be so important to him?"

Blaine smiled "If its just a piece of paper then what kind of damage can it do? Love is still love."

"Oh, now you made me cry again, Bee," she said and sobbed loudly.

He dragged her in for a hug and side eyed Kurt who just shook his head in disbelief. If anybody was ever calm and collected at  _all_  times it was Ally. This was disturbing on so many levels.

"Wait, you never gave Kurt an answer ... about the part in the play," she suddenly said and lifted her head from Blaine's chest that now had wet stains from her tears.

Blaine leaned back and rubbed her arm as he looked at Kurt. "Let's write the part so it fits me and then take from there. But I will not promise anything yet."

Kurt did a happy dance on the spot and Ally laughed through her tears. Then with a happy sigh she excused herself and went to the bathroom.

"Do you think she is ...?" Blaine asked with lowered voice as soon as she was gone.

"Oh yes, absolutely," Kurt answered. "She just hasn't realized it yet."

"Shouldn't we ... like tell her?"

"Nooo, no ... no, no, no, no, no."

"Why?"

"If she is freaking that much out about a proposal that hasn't even happened yet imagine how she will feel about being pregnant."

* * *

The next day Kurt once again entered the theater doors with uneasiness stirring somewhere undefined. Despite Stevenson's promise to fix things the reaction from Dubrovski would be unpredictable. And even though Kurt had decided not to care so much anymore he was fed up with the hostile environment. Blaine had offered to come with him, but after discussing the matter they had agreed that Kurt should go alone. He had run through different scenarios in his head to be prepared, but the one he actually found himself in after a couple of hours had not been one of them.

Instead of harassments and vicious remarks came ... nothing!

Dubrowski acted like there had been no yesterday. He didn't say anything to Kurt and he rarely looked at him, but he didn't ignore him either. There was a good sensible flow in the scenes they went through and even though Kurt was on pins and needles he had to admit that he had enjoyed morning rehearsals.

"You have to tell me what happened yesterday after I left," he said to Charleen as the first thing when they met for lunch. "Either Dubrowski is planning something big or Stevenson has threatened to fire him, because today is  _surreal_."

Charleen had rehearsed with the extras for the village scene all morning and hadn't personally witnessed the change in the directors behavior "I haven't heard a  _word_  from Stevenson," she said and lowered her voice, "but I can tell you this; yesterday was weird as hell. After you left, or was kicked out, most of the cast was extremely upset. I mean, they did what they were told, but mainly because you had asked them to. Snopski sure got to taste his own meds. And then suddenly Vladimir left. None of us know why. But I'm pretty sure he had a fallout with his uncle because for the rest of the day Dubrowski didn't know what to do or what scenes to rehearse after losing both Coalans."

Kurt poked his salad around on the plate, lost in his thoughts. "It can't be easy for Vladimir, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Well who talks to him? Who is he hanging out with?" Kurt asked. "I haven't said one word to the kid. Mainly to stay out of trouble, but still."

"I don't know. Usually I would initiate something, as it is a part of my job, but even I have been hesitant about him for some reason. And besides, a lot of people make fun of his uncle whenever they can, just to let steam out and that would be kind of hard with Vladimir around." She shrugged "Mostly I just think people keep a distance because they don't think he deserves to be Coalan."

Kurt frowned. "I'm not entirely sure that's even what he wants. Yesterday I could have sworn he looked relieved to see me."

"But if he doesn't want the part then why not turn his uncle down?"

Kurt gave her a bearing look. "And say no to Dubrowski?"

Charleen blew a strand of hair away from her eyes. "Okay okay. I'll admit it's not the easiest thing to do. Anyway, I think Snopski was told to shove it or leave, basically. And that is going to  _kill_  him. With a bit of luck you might last longer than him in this production."

"It doesn't have to be him or me, though. I just want it to work," Kurt mumbled in reply.

"What does it take to get an invite to your little secretive lunch meetings?" an unfamiliar voice said from behind.

Kurt looked up, surprised by the interruption and was met by Victor, smiling way too broad for his liking.

Charleen rolled her eyes. "We're having lunch, Victor, that's all."

"I don't think that's entirely true. The way you constantly whisper to each other, leaning over the table to make sure no one can hear what you're saying. It's been quite entertaining to watch, actually." It was probably meant to be friendly banter from Victor's side but it came off as creepy when he added a wink.

"You're such a stalker whenever Kurt is around, Vic," Charleen hissed.

A flash of anger showed across the dancer's face. "Well, at least we are clear that it's not you I'm pursuing, honey" he bit back. Then he turned to Kurt with a suggarish smile. "Forgive me, but sassy Charleen is always pissing me off. Too bad we're not the ones having lunch in secret."

Kurt turned on his bitch face and made sure it was solid enough to last. "Victor, does that really work with anybody - at all?"

"Does what work?" Victor asked amused.

"The stupid winking and that macho crap you're trying to sell?"

"I haven't had any complaints so far."

Kurt leaned closer. "You know what they say about a big ego, right?"

Victor looked thrilled. "Nooo, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

"A big ego is nothing but a cover up for something else that isn't that big. And I'm not interested!"

Victor jerked back as if the words had made a physical impact. Then his smile was back, bigger and more fake than ever. "That's because you don't know what you're missing out on." He laughed. "Anyway, if the two of you are scheming against Snopski - and I  _do_  believe that's what your lunch club is for - please get rid of him quickly. Because that guy is the most pretentious, insufferable asshole I have met in a long time. He doesn't know shit about directing or dancing and he never will. And if the two of you haven't got the balls to intervene in that charade, I'll do it myself. It will not be the first time and it sure as hell will not be the last time either."

An unexplainable urge to defend Dubrowski hit Kurt in the stomach and took him completely by surprise. He didn't like Dubrowski either, but this somehow rubbed him the wrong way and it was not just because the words were said by Victor. But before he could put something sensible into an answer Victor had left them with a "ciao".

He looked questioningly at Charleen.

"I know, I know," she said and raised her hands. "But he is one of my best dancers so I usually bear with him."

"How well do you know him?" Kurt asked.

"Privately; not much. I don't hang out with him outside of work. Why?" Charleen asked.

Kurt shrugged. "I was just wondering."

"About what?"

"Nah, it's nothing. It's just me going crazy places."

"Jeez, now I kind of  _have_  to know, Kurt!"

"It's just ... last week Blaine received an anonymous phone call with a message about my ex boyfriend, claiming I was seeing him again. He also received a picture of me and Benjamin talking at a random meeting, not far from here. We thought the incident was somehow connected to Sam's problems in LA, but it wasn't."

"And?"

"Do you think Victor … would be capable of something like that?"

Charleen stared at him with wide open eyes. "Oh my gosh, Kurt, do you really think?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking you."

Charleen sighed unhappy. "Kurt, I wish ... I really wish I could say no way. But now I don't know."


	16. In The Center Of The Storm

"I just have to know if the two of you joined the Mile High Club on your honeymoon?" The question came from Santana, Saturday night at an impromptu get-together in Kurt and Blaine's apartment to celebrate the return of Cooper and Katie. A roar of laughter filled the living room and Santana's smug face was established even further.

"I  _cannot_  believe you just asked that?" Matt gasped and shook his head. Megan, who sat next to him facepalmed and chuckled in silence.

"Sometimes I pretend I don't know her," Charleen explained giggling.

"But now is not one of those times, because it's a completely legit question," Santana said and grabbed Charleen's hand. "Besides everybody around here would be disappointed if I didn't ask about the inappropriate stuff."

"Um, what is the Mile High Club?" Katie asked suspiciously, causing the next giggle attack.

Cooper smiled, broad as ever. "I think that answers your question, Santana." He leaned in and whispered something in Katie's ear until her mouth dropped open.

"Oh … no …. no, no … wow, nope, Santana.  _That_  we didn't do. Who would even  _want_  to do that?" Katie stated shocked.

Blaine could literally feel the blood rush to his face faster than a wave hitting the shore. He tried to hide it but it was too late. Santana's teasing eyes had already singled him out. "Blaine, why are you blushing so hard?" she asked and tilted her head.

"I'm not," he objected and got extremely interested in the vine glass in front of him. But as the sudden object of everyone's increasing attention his cheeks decided to heat up even further, reaching a boiling point.

"Noooo, Blaine, you didn't?" Matt laughed and patted his friends shoulder. "I'm impressed. You are personifying our band, dude. You  _are_  like "The Sound Of Seduction".

"Shut up, Matt," Blaine said and rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe his pokerface was that bad. It was  _his_  secret together with Kurt, not something to be discussed around a dinner table. Kurt would kill him, for sure.

"Aww, you are so sweet, Bee," Katie chuckled and kissed her brother-in-law on the cheek. "Forget everything I just said."

"I don't know what you are all assuming I have done and to my own defense it's actually pretty warm in here," he said with regret. But it didn't do him any good as the next laugh explosion drowned out his last words. In the same moment Kurt joined them from the bedroom next door.

"It is practically impossible to make a phone call with you guys roaring like monkeys in here," he scolded and took a seat. Blaine tried to catch his attention from across the table but it was a lost cause from the start.

"Kurt, we were just all wondering if you are a member of the Mile High Club?" Santana asked with an innocent look.

Kurt's eyes snapped to Blaine who didn't even dare to look back in the midst of the muffled laughter surrounding them. "I .. um .. what?" Blaine could see the sheepish look that snuck up on Kurt until it couldn't be held back any longer and broke through, full forced. "Oh crap," Kurt said and held his head high. "Yes I am and I can't believe Blaine told you guys about it."

Blaine hid behind his hands in complete defeat as all their friends now had tears in their eyes caused by the hilarity of everything.

"Blaine didn't tell us," Cooper revealed, happy as ever. "But you just did."

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but then he seemed to change his mind and instead he raised his glass and locked eyes with Blaine. "No regrets, baby," he said.

Blaine took a deep breath, raised his glass as well and smiled shyly. "Just love," he replied.

"Just love," Kurt repeated.

"To Kurt and Blaine," Cooper bellowed and got them off the hook as everybody cheered.

The rest of the night passed a lot less embarrassing. Blaine was absolutely thrilled to have Cooper back. He had missed his brother and now they were both eager to catch up. Katie was like The Fairy Godmother, making sure that everybody was alright. She and Megan spent some time with Charleen to get to know her, and Kurt updated Santana on the latest news from LA before she was heading there later that week. Matt found Blaine's guitar and soon the apartment was buzzing with music, wedding gossip and outbursts of laughter.

* * *

Sunday was dedicated to being lazy and doing nothing. After sleeping in all morning Blaine managed to drag Kurt down for a walk in Central Park. April was almost over and the weather was changing from cool freshness to a mild wind and a warmer touch of the sun. They would most likely spend the summer in New York. Kurt still didn't know for how long Cordelia would run at The Ensemble. It all depended on ticket sales. But they had promised each other a vacation when he was done.

Tired from the walk they curled up against each other on the couch and watched a lot of nonsense on the TV as they cuddled and kissed. After half a movie Kurt fell asleep on Blaine's chest and decided to stay there forever.

The following week everything was calming down at the theater and less conflicts were stirring. Dubrowski still criticized almost everything, but it was no longer just aimed at Kurt and in some weird way the cast seemed to adjust overall.

On Wednesday Blaine decided to give Kurt a surprise visit at the theater. The band had a gig later that night in a bar in Soho, but he had a couple of hours to spare.

The theater looked pretty empty when he arrived, but one of the crew members pointed him to a big room back stage where most of the actors would have dance rehearsal this day. Soon he recognized Charleens voice counting the beat from behind the doors and he opened slowly, afraid to disturb too much.

Charleen stood in front of a mirrored wall, repeating a series of steps and during of one of her spins her eyes caught sight of Blaine and with a huge smile she stopped. "Okay guys," she panted. "Let's take five. But before we do let me introduce you to Kurt's crazily talented boyfriend, Blaine Anderson."

Everybody applauded and Kurt turned around surprised, beaming by the sight of his visitor. He barely managed a hug before he and Blaine were swarmed by people who wanted to meet the composer of all the beautiful songs they were working so hard on. Kurt introduced everyone as they came along and connected them to the parts they were playing to make it easier for Blaine to catch up. It was an overwhelming response for Blaine that they showed him that much interest but he soon realized that it was all centered around their love for Kurt and for the musical itself. What he and Kurt had written together actually touched other peoples lives and it was so rewarding to witness.

Charleen called everybody back to their marks and Blaine found a stool to sit on in one of the front corners. It was the first time the actors were rehearsing with the professional dancers and with various levels of difficulty the task ahead was getting the two groups to blend together. The first half hour was about marks, where to go, who to dance with, first row and second row. But slowly the different steps made sense and got fast enough for Charleen to put on Blaine's music.

And then the magic happened.

It grew from within, like breathing, bodies moving in unison, focused, alive, so much more than a physical reaction. The dance evolved from bits and pieces of single steps to a story told, vibrant and loud. Blaine was facing all the dancers but his attention was solely on Kurt as he followed his every move with burning eyes. He kept a steady beat on his knees as his lips formed the lyrics; perfect words spoken along the dance. He watched Kurt lose himself in the world of Cordelia. His spins were perfect, his feet stretched and his arms strong around Michelle. It was breathtaking.

But somewhere from the corner of his eyes he noticed that he was not the only one watching Kurt closely. A redheaded well-built dancer from the back row was checking him out now and then and it just  _had_  to be Victor. Even though Kurt had never described his looks, he had been told enough about his intruding behavior for Blaine to do the math. Blaine decided to be very convincing as the hot boyfriend and he would look out for an opportunity to make a statement later.

Charleen kept them on their toes until they were exhausted and completely worked out, but she was thrilled about the outcome and promised it would look amazing on stage. Blaine waited with a towel and a chilled bottle of water when Kurt joined him, tired but satisfied.

"Oh you're a sweetheart," Kurt panted and put the bottle to his mouth, drinking in big gulps.

"It's no different than when you make sure I have a cold beer waiting for me after every gig," Blaine reminded him and watched Kurt's exposed neck when he leaned back to drink some more. Kurt then buried his face in the towel and dried up the best he could before he let the towel hang around his neck.

"You looked amazing out there," Blaine said and stepped closer. "I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."

"I noticed," Kurt said with eyes sparkling.

Blaine saw Victor in the background, watching them secretly, and without hesitation he buried his fingers in the towel and pulled Kurt in for a kiss. Kurt met his mouth willingly until he couldn't help smiling. "That was a very public kiss, baby," he whispered when Blaine finally let go.

"You think?" Blaine hummed. "I must have forgotten where we were.  _That's_  how good of a kisser you are."

"And you just totally marked your territory because of Victor didn't you?" Kurt chuckled and skimmed his hands down Blaine's back.

"Maybe." Blaine shrugged. "I mean, he has some nerve to check out your ass while I'm in the same room. That is just not cool."

Victor stormed pass them with a couple of his friends laughing after him and Blaine's smug smile spread even wider, until his mouth was covered by Kurt's lips again.

"Stop being so cute," Kurt mumbled.

"You know what. When you were dancing out there I really wanted to join you and … it made me think about how it would feel like to be on stage with you."

"And?" Kurt said, raising his eyebrows.

"And maybe I'm more ready to try out that homeless pianist part than I thought."

"Yes!" Kurt said and fist pumped in the air. "I just know you will be incredible."

"But I'll need your help a lot."

"I will do whatever it takes Blaine," Kurt said excited. "I promise."

"So, what will happen for the rest of the day?" Blaine asked.

"We have a short break now, which means a quick shower and then it's stage work," Kurt answered.

The room was empty by now and Kurt was packing his stuff when a voice was heard through the door, annoyed and sharp. "Charleen, you kept the dancers too long and now I have to rearrange the schedule. We've discussed this before."

Blaine closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. A physical reaction washed over his body and flashes of uneasiness made his heart pound. It was more than the tone of the voice or the rise and fall of it. It was the accent that hit him hardest; like a punch in his gut, making his stomach tie into a big knot and the blood draining from his face.

"Blaine, what wrong?" Kurt asked worried.

"Who was that? The man just talking to Charleen," Blaine gasped.

Kurt barely blinked as if he knew what would come next but didn't really want to hear it. "The ever so famous Dubrowski," he answered and swallowed hard.

"Kurt, it was him. He was the one calling me that night. I recognize his voice."

The words were left hanging in the air, ricocheting between the walls until Kurt caught them. "Blaine, are you absolutely sure?" he asked devastated.

"It's the accent, Kurt. I cannot believe I forgot that he talked with an accent. It's like I blocked it out, completely."

Kurt pressed his lips hard together until they were white and shook his head slowly. "How can he stoop SO LOW!" he hissed. Every spark disappeared from his eyes as they turned dark as midnight.

Blaine reached out to connect with him, uncertain of what was going on underneath his hurt expression. "I'm sorry, honey, I wish it wasn't true ... I ... I wish it was Victor, or even Joseph. This is too fucked up."

"He's the one being fucked up," Kurt yelled and kicked the empty water bottle across the room. Blaine had never in his life seen Kurt that angry and right now he didn't even know how to reach him or comfort him. "Blaine, it was just getting better," Kurt panted and paced the floor. "For four days it has been tolerable to be here. I've stopped ducking my head every time he comes around. I'm not saying it has been good but I somehow made peace with it, trusting than even this I would survive. But it will never change, will it? He will be a jerk right up to the final curtain call, which could be after the summer. How am I supposed to deal with that and stay sane at the same time?"

Blaine's heart was crying out. "You don't have to," he stated firmly. "You said it yourself, Dubrowski's job is hanging by a thread, right? Take it to Stevenson. Tell him the truth."

"But it will be useless if we can't prove Dubrowski made the call. And I don't know how we can do that."

"Do you still have the picture?"

"No, I deleted it. You?"

"No."

Kurt slipped into Blaine's eyes, seeking the strength that he needed. "I'm confronting him," he then said. "I need to see his pathetic face when he is denying everything. And I need him to know that I know."

Kurt disappeared out the door before Blaine could do anything.

* * *

Dubrowski was on his way back to the stage with Charleen when Kurt caught up with them. "I want to talk to you," he said firmly and grabbed the directors arm.

Dubrowski turned around slowly. "Who do you think you are, Hummel," he sneered. "I'm busy and we are behind schedule today. It will have to wait."

Kurt didn't move an inch but kept glaring angrily at the man who had been making his life a living hell for weeks now. "This cannot wait and we can do it right here or we can do it in private, your call. But I'm going to make a scene no matter what so you have to be really smart about what you pick."

Charleen stared at Kurt with big eyes, completely lost about what was happening in front of her. But Kurt's attention was only aimed at Dubrowski.

"You're such a drama queen, Hummel," he said through gritted teeth. Then he dragged Kurt into the nearest dressing room backstage, slammed the door behind them and snapped back at Kurt. "Is this private enough for you? I don't know what kind of scene you want to make, but by all means be my guest. Just do it quickly so I can move on with my life."

"You are a pathetic human being," Kurt started and pointed his finger at the director. "You made a phone call to Blaine when he was in LA and sent him a picture of me that you represented completely out of context."

"I have NO idea what you're talking about." Dubrowski face was carved in stone but a flicker in his eyes, as fleeting as it was, gave him away. And it was all Kurt needed to know for sure.

"For how long have you been stalking me?" he fumed. "Just tell me. And then explain to me if there is anything you wouldn't do to give my part to Vladimir. Because right now I can't think of one."

"You do not just come waltzing in here and accuse me of whatever you think I have done. You are out of line and I demand the same respect from you as everybody else."

"You don't demand respect - you EARN it! And I will not let this one go," Kurt yelled.

Dubrowski's chest was heaving."So what are you going to do. Run to Stevenson, like you did the last time."

"Oh, he would be thrilled to have an excuse to fire you and you know it. And let me just remind you of another thing. If you lose this job you are never getting another one here in New York. You've made sure of that yourself, not me. And how will Vladimir or his mom make it if you're not there to guarantee them a job. They would suddenly be back in the line like the rest of us."

Dubrowski's hardened face dissolved around the edges and Kurt realized, what he should have known all along, that Dubrowski's only weakness was Vladimir.

Kurt stepped closer. "Look, I can take a lot of shit and you should know that by now, but you leave Blaine out of this. You don't go  _near_  him, you don't  _talk_  to him, you don't  _approach_  him in any way." Kurt didn't wait for an answer or any kind of response before he ripped the door open and left.

As soon as he found Blaine he grabbed his hand and led him to his dressing room. And he didn't say a word until they were alone.

"What happened, baby," Blaine asked and palmed Kurt's cheek.

Kurt leaned into the touch, miserable and confused. He wish things had been different and no matter what his next step would be, things were getting beyond complicated now. He put his head on Blaine's shoulder and welcomed the warm hug he was offered.

"What did he say?" Blaine asked and rubbed his bag.

"He denied knowing what I was talking about, but honestly, I could see it in his eyes, without a shadow of a doubt."

"Are you going to tell Stevenson?"

Kurt exhaled. "I don't know. We can't prove anything, which means it will be his word against yours. I know who Stevenson will believe, but he can't legally fire a director, three weeks into a production on a suspicion."

"I want to help you  _so_  bad and I just don't know how." Blaine said unhappily.

"You don't have come up with some magic trick Blaine. Right now it just feels good to be held and to know you are here." Kurt looked at their intertwined fingers and squeezed tight.

"Can't you bail for today and come with me to Soho now," Blaine begged. "I have to rehearse and all but we'd still be together."

Kurt considered it for a while and tried to figure out what he really needed right now to make it through the day and hopefully distance himself from the heat. "No, you should go ahead and concentrate on what you need to do before the concert," he finally said.

"And what about you?"

"I need to clear my head, here, or somewhere else."

"Maybe you should call Rachel," Blaine suggested. "I can't give you any proper advice when it comes to the theater world, but she can, or her agent can. And maybe it's time to consider an agent for ourselves and for Blackbirds productions overall. Things will be more complicated from now on, Dubrowski or not, and we need someone who can look out for us on a professional level."

Kurt nodded. He'd thought about it too and Rachel's agent probably could point him in the right direction. He buried his fingers in Blaine's dark hair and pulled him into a kiss, just to taste him and feel secure again. "Blaine, I'm coming to Soho as quickly as I can and tonight you're going to sing your heart out and make me forget about this mess. Then we'll drink a couple of beers and pretend there's no tomorrow."

Blaine smiled with his lips still on Kurt's mouth. "You've got yourself a deal, beautiful. But promise you'll call me if you need anything."

"Promise."

When Blaine had left, Kurt took a long shower, knowing very well he'd be late, but he needed to be defiant. He needed to make a statement. He was done being afraid of Dubrowski.

They were in the middle of a scene, when he finally arrived, but instead of Vladimir filling in as he had halfway expected, Michelle was on her own.

"Kurt, you're late," Charleen whispered frantically. "He's going to blow up any minute now."

Dubrowski turned by the commotion. "Oh, Kurt, are you coming? We need you here on stage." There was not a trace of demand in the man's voice. Only a request. Charleen practically dropped her jaw and looked from Dubrowski to Kurt.

"I have some things I need to take care of this afternoon, and I was wondering if we could get back to this scene tomorrow?" Kurt said, as Charleen moaned next to him.

Dubrowski browsed through his papers and then he turned to Charleen. "I think we can reschedule, don't you Charleen?" he asked.

Charleen looked at him with disbelief, completely lost about what was happening between the two men. "Um yes, sir. I'm sure .. we can work it out somehow," she answered and tapped nervously on her iPad. "I mean, yes of course we can. I'll just juggle ... a few things."

Dubrowski took off his reading glasses and made eye contact with Kurt. "Will you be back tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Kurt answered, barely breathing.

"Great. See you then," Dubrowski replied and turned around to continue his conversation with Michelle.

As Kurt went for the front door Charleen chased him down. "Kurt, what is going on? What has happened?"

He stopped and dragged her in for a quick hug. "You are an amazing girl and I wouldn't survive here without you. I'll tell you all about it later, I promise."

She looked even more confused than before. "You're not leaving, are you?" she asked broken.

"No," he said and gave her an encouraging smile. "I told Dubrowski that I'd come back tomorrow and I'll stand by word."

Then he left.

* * *

Kurt was relieved when Rachel turned out to be home and she invited him in right away. She'd just moved in to her own apartment and even though it wasn't nearly as big or fashionable as Marc's place she seemed content and happy. She excused the few boxes still unpacked but Kurt didn't mind. It just felt like those first couple of weeks when they moved in together at the loft, thinking they were invincible.

He told her everything and didn't even stop to drink the coffee she had made for him. She just listened and only interrupted with a few questions when she needed something clarified. When he was completely emptied for words and had uttered every frustration he contained, she poured him a new cup of coffee instead of the cold one standing on the table in front of him.

"He definitely crossed a line, Kurt," she said as the first thing. "And if you'd had proof you could even report him to the police. They would hardly do anything about it, but still. With that being said I have to tell you that it's not uncommon to start off rumors or tell direct lies when much is at stake. It's as ugly here as it can be anywhere when money is involved."

"But this isn't even about money," he objected.

"Of course it's about money. No one will hire a director if he doesn't succeed and no one will pick up a play if they don't think it can sell tickets for months or years. And that's why I'm telling you, you have to stick it out. If you leave, Coalan will be played by an amateur who will not know the first thing about selling a show. And if The Ensemble can't attract the big guys from the prestigious Broadway Theaters then Cordelia is doomed."

Kurt bounced back in her couch. "I know all this. I do. I guess I just needed to hear it again."

"What does Blaine say about all this?" she asked.

"He just ... he basically hates it when people are not being nice to me."

"As he should."

"And maybe that's why I'm being so emotional about this. I know he went through hell because of that picture. And I  _hate_  that. He shouldn't have to suffer because of a part in a play. It's so fucked up."

"I know."

"Do you want to hear something weird."

"Always."

"Above all the anger I feel so disappointed. I actually feel disappointed in Dubrowski. In some fucked up alternate universe we  _could_  have been a great team. We  _could_  have accomplished something on a stage. I don't know. I must be going crazy."

Rachel smiled knowingly. "Sometimes those we fight the hardest are those who want the same things as us."

Kurt rubbed his eyes. "I don't know what Dubrowski wants. I mean he is too good of a director to miss that Vladimir isn't ready to pull a main lead."

"Look Kurt, you have to watch out for yourself in all this. Stop trying to understand Dubrowski. This is about you and your career."

"Blaine wants me to have an agent and I think that would be a good idea."

"Oh my god," Rachel exclaimed and rolled her eyes. "I have been telling you that for years. I should have known that only Blaine makes you listen!"

Kurt made a funny face. "Well he's actually really smart. What can I say."

"And I'm not!"

"Of course you are. Blaine is smart about emotional stuff and you're smart about the tough career stuff. That's why I need you both in my life."

"Nice save, Kurt Hummel."

* * *

The bar in Soho had just opened the big section with the stage when Kurt arrived and the last sound check was being made.

"What do you think, baby?" Blaine asked in the mic after a single verse of a song he knew Blaine had written in LA.

"A bit more of Megan's vocal and just a nudge down on the drums," Kurt replied smiling.

"Thanks."

Josh rolled his eyes behind Blaine's back. "We need to play bigger venues so I don't always have to nudge down," he said annoyed. "It's all I'm ever told."

"We hear you, Josh," Matt bickered. "And you're welcome to book bigger venues. Just tell us where and when to show up."

Josh sulked, mumbling something they clearly wasn't supposed to hear.

Blaine jumped down from the stage and gave Kurt a quick kiss.

"What's up with Josh?" Kurt asked.

"Just the usual, complaining a lot. I think he wants to be a rock star and it's not happening fast enough. How are you feeling?"

"Much better."

"Have you figured out what to do."

Kurt shrugged. "Dubrowski is shitting his pants right now. He gave me the rest of the day off and said he'd hope to see me tomorrow."

"Nooo!" Blaine mouthed.

Kurt nodded. "Makes you think."

"He feels guilty"

"Oh yeah. But I'm not talking about him tonight," Kurt stated.

A boyish smile appeared on Blaine's face. "Give me a minute to change and then I'll have a surprise for you."

Kurt chuckled and went for the bar to order something to drink, and a few moments later Blaine returned in a pair of tight leather pants and a slim black t-shirt. It was a jaw-dropping sight to say the least and Kurt's eyes immediately sought out every favorite part of his boyfriend's body; his broad chest accentuated underneath the soft fabric; his hips and his bulge, perfect and round, inviting him to the promised land. As on cue Blaine turned around and showed his ass, looking coyly at Kurt over his shoulder with his hands on his hips. Kurt's stomach flipped as blood rushed down to his crotch.

"What do you think?" Blaine asked, teasing with a wiggle.

"I think ... I just died and went to heaven," Kurt mumbled and twitched on his chair.

Blaine shot him a lopsided smile, sat down next to him and leaned in. "Does that mean you like my surprise?" he whispered.

"I LOVE your surprise." Kurt replied weakly.

Blaine looked overly satisfied. "Now don't get ahead of yourself, gorgeous. I have to do a concert first. But you can consider this foreplay."

Kurt inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. "The longest foreplay ever," he complained.

"But it will be worth it."

"It always is." Kurt bit his lips. "I have been begging you, for almost a year, to wear leather pants on stage. What has changed?"

Blaine squinted. "First of all, this isn't real leather, which means the pants don't get stuck in different places when I sweat. Second of all they are way more comfortable than I thought they would be ... and then they make my ass look good."

"Which I've said they would," Kurt reminded him.

Blaine shrugged. "I bought them after I left the theater and I wanted to cheer you up."

"I am," Kurt laughed, " ... very, very cheerful."

Matt startled them from behind. "I am so sorry to interrupt, Blaine, but Josh is going on and on back there and I am ready to strangle him. So if you still need a drummer for tonight you have to save him  _and_  me."

Blaine made a cute pout.

"Go," Kurt said and hid a smile. "You can't have a drummer's death on on your conscience."

"No, I guess that's too messy. See you later."

Kurt squeezed Blaine's ass unnoticed as he got up and Blaine left him, strutting and completely aware that Kurt was ogling him.

The room was filling up nicely now and Kurt ordered another drink before he looked around for somewhere to sit. It took awhile before he spotted the familiar face by one of the tables in the back. He turned around quickly, afraid he might have been recognized. Why couldn't he just have a nice, quiet evening for once? Was he some sort of trouble magnet for crying out loud!

He considered his options as he pretended to be very interested in his drink, but they were limited. He couldn't hide for the entire concert and it would be rude to pretend he hadn't seen anything. He took a big gulp of his drink and decided that it, as always, was best to take the bull by the horns. He braved up, turned around and made a beeline for the back of the room.

"Well, if it isn't the guy who wants to steal my part as Coalan," Kurt said as he approached, making sure that the smirk on his face was friendly.

Vladimir blushed and cleared his throat. He too had probably hoped to avoid this encounter. "No," he then said tired. " I'm the guy with the  _uncle_  who wants me to have your part. There is a difference."

Kurt smiled. "Yeah, I kind of figured that out awhile ago. Can I sit here? I promise it won't be too long."


	17. Vladimir Dubrowski

Kurt took a seat at Vladimir's table, determined to get  _some_  kind of conversation going between them. With his blue eyes and blondish hair Vladimir looked nothing like Dubrowski, except from his guarded expression maybe. Kurt decided to go easy on the guy. He could hardly blame him for suspecting a hidden agenda.

"Are you here for the band?" Kurt asked and sipped the drink he'd just bought.

Vladimir fumbled with his glass. "Yeah, I … I overheard that Blaine would perform. I just hoped I wouldn't get caught."

His answer was baffling. He seemed way more jumpy and misplaced than Kurt had expected him to be. "Caught by whom?" he asked curious.

Vladimir shrugged. "By others from the theater."

"But you have every right to be here," Kurt smiled.

Vladimir made eye contact for a brief moment. "It doesn't feel that way though. At its best it's awkward and ..."

"And at its worst?"

"Unpleasant," Vladimir finished.

"Because of me?" Kurt asked.

"God no, not at all. I just … well it doesn't really matter. I'm not exactly winning any popularity contests at the moment." He huffed out a fake laugh.

"But that's not your fault," Kurt assured in a hurry. "Look, on my part I'm sorry that I haven't spoken with you before. It has never been my intention to leave you out. I want you to know that. "

Vladimir's gaze was a mix of amazement and confusion. "I don't blame you in the least. I'm not blind. I know my position at the theater is complicated, not just for you but for everybody."

"But still."

Vladimir ran a hand through his hair and side eyed Kurt nervously. "Kurt ... I want to apologize for the way my uncle is treating you. I know it doesn't make it alright or make it go away, but I can't say it any other way. I never wanted your part in the first place and I'm not stupid enough to believe I could ever do Coalan justice. I am more than satisfied with King Of The Fairies."

The silence following was awkward and Kurt felt utterly sorry for the guy. He seemed so sincere and vulnerable. "Have you ever told  _him_  that?"

"Um ... Have you ever  _met_  my uncle?"

Kurt smiled, acknowledging that nothing around Dubrowski was ever  _that_  simple. "Is it your dream, to be on the stage?"

"I like it ... but not like this. I applied to NYADA last year, actually; just didn't get in. I'm applying again in two months and my uncle has this vision about Madam Tibideaux coming on opening night to see me in the main lead."

Kurt frowned. "Let's forget about what your uncle wants. How bad do  _you_  want it? Is it on your mind 24-7? Would your life feel like a waste of time if you didn't pursue this exact dream?"

"I don't know," Vladimir shrugged. "It just feels nice to be somebody else for awhile and I get to be that on stage. But I'm not sure it's a legit reason."

"I've got to be honest with you, it's a non stop struggle to make it on Broadway even after NYADA, but Broadway isn't everything. The world is full of stages and opportunities." Kurt examined the young man's face. It was hard to read him, as it is with people who carry heavy secret burdens inside. "Do some soul searching, Vladimir, and if this is truly what you want then let me help you. I know Madam Tibideaux. She doesn't do favors, but I know what she's looking for in her students. I can give you a couple of lessons and then we can take it from there."

Vladimir looked at him in disbelief. "Would you really do that for me?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Because I recognize a struggling soul when I see one ... and because I used to struggle myself until someone believed in  _me_."

"Who believed in you?" Vladimir asked.

Kurt smiled. This was like counting his blessings. "My dad, Blaine, my high school teacher, the friends I had in Glee club, Madame Tibideaux - even though she had to be convinced, Michael - who was the first director to pick up Cordelia ... and Stevenson. A lot of different people who have been a part of my life along the way."

Vladimir closed off again. "I only have two people believing in me; my mom and my uncle."

"How about your dad?" Kurt asked carefully.

"I have kind of lost touch with him, mainly because my mom hates him. He's an American, moved to Moscow to study Russian literature at the university where my mom worked as a secretary. They fell in love, got married a year later and had me. But he wasn't happy there. He missed the US and they decided to move to New York when I was three years old. I don't know when they got divorced, my mom won't talk about it. All I know is that he now lives in England and has a new family there." Vladimir made his drink spin in the glass. "So much for missing America," he mumbled lost. Then he shook his head. "Anyway, I didn't grow up with my uncle around, he only moved here five years ago and he has sort of been there for me and my mom ever since. I guess that's why I feel I owe him so much."

"But it's still  _your_  life, Vladimir," Kurt objected. "And by the end of the day I think our families just want us to be happy, don't you?"

"You had a fight with him today, didn't you?" Vladimir suddenly asked. "I saw how upset you and Blaine got."

Kurt pursed his lips, not willing to go into details. "We  _did_  ... have a disagreement. But I'm trying to get past that."

"What did you argue about?"

Kurt captured the vulnerable eyes in front of him. "It doesn't really matter. Most of the time I just try to get him, you know. To understand what his real issue is."

"I'll tell you something that you cannot share with anybody at the theater and I only tell you because in some weird way I trust you with this information."

"Just don't say anything you're not comfortable with," Kurt said.

"Something happened in Russia with my uncle, in his personal life. I don't even know what it is, yet another thing we don't talk about in our family. I just know that it broke him completely and left him bitter and alone. I think he is fighting his own demons if you know what I mean."

Kurt could see how it would fit Dubrowski's behavior but he was too furious right now to go all soft on him, if not ever. "I guess the trick is to not hurt those around you just because you are hurting on your own, " he stated. "I don't know, Vladimir, whatever is going on behind all the armor your uncle is hiding behind, it's beyond my ability to fix it. But if you and I promise to talk to each other and not let this mess come between us I think we might even survive." Kurt winked.

"Deal." Vladimir offered a small smile. "And thank you for this." Then his demeanor changed like a shadow passing through and his face closed off again. Kurt followed his stares and recognized some of the guys from the theater. It was Michelle, Louise - who did an amazing job as The Queen Of Evil - and two guys from the crew. Louise soon spotted Kurt and with a big toothy smile on her face she made a beeline for their table followed by the rest of the group.

"Hey guys," Kurt said cheerfully. "Vladimir and I have been saving some seats, so  _do_  sit down."

The hesitation in their eyes when they saw Vladimir was only fleeting, then Louise picked up pace. "That's sweet of you," she said and bumped down next to Vladimir. "Thank you, Mr. Dubrowski Junior."

"Don't," Vladimir moaned exhausted.

"I'm sorry," Louise said sincere. "I wasn't trying to be rude; Vladimir then."

"Um, my friends actually calls me Mira."

"That's a cute nickname," Michelle offered. "Mira, it is. And as you already know this is Jason and Ricky, the only two guys we could get on such short notice."

"Look, when your pick-up line is, and I quote;  _will you guys go out with us, we want to catch Blaine's band, 'cause he's hot,_  then it kind of kills the mood so to speak," Jason pointed out.

"What does that say about us, though? " Ricky asked and bumped Jason's shoulder.

"We're desperate!"

"Jeez, was it really necessary to repeat all that in front of Kurt. Now he thinks Louise and I are creeps," Michelle whispered loudly.

Kurt emptied his drink before he replied. "First of all, I  _know_  you are creeps and second of all, you're right, Blaine _is_  hot."

"And you're sure he's gay?" Michelle teased.

"Very sure. We kind of established that in high school, which was the last time he kissed a girl. And that was before he had kissed me, of course."

"Of course," Michelle chuckled.

"But tell me this then," Louise said. "Why do all the hot guys  _have_  to be gay? It's not fair!"

"Well, I'm not gay," Vladimir mumbled into his glass.

The silence only lasted a beat then they all had a giggle attack.

"Oh my god. I said that out loud, didn't I?" Vladimir looked horrified.

"You did, sweetie," Louise chimed. "And you're right, Vladi… I mean Mira, you're pretty hot too."

With the jokes and the friendly banter continuing around the table Kurt realized how much his opinion was evaluated and that a lot of responsibility followed his position at the theater. Maybe that was what he had searched for all day; a reason to continue; a reason to keep working things out with Dubrowski. The director would not get fired as long as Blaine couldn't prove the stunt he had pulled on them. It would still take an official complaint. The only choice that had truly been in Kurt's power to make was if he wanted to leave or if he wanted to stay. And sitting around this table made that choice so much easier to make. He couldn't leave now. He was too invested in the friendships he had made along the way and he could still make a difference, especially for Vladimir. It was a revelation after an emotional and draining day. It lifted the weight off of his shoulders and made him breathe again.

"So what's Blaine like with the band?" Jason asked curious.

"He's amazing," Kurt answered with a subtle smile. "Prepare yourself for a ride."

* * *

Blaine didn't miss a beat that night and the band was on fire. It was impossible to tell that Matt had been ready to strangle Josh just an hour earlier; because now they grooved together as if they could read each others mind. The band still covered a lot of iconic rock and pop numbers but Blaine's songs were becoming an increasing part of the set list and with a steady core of fans, following them in New York and on YouTube they had a very responsive audience.

The theater gang had a party. It only took half a song to get the girls going and before long the guys were dragged out to the cluttered dance floor, more or less voluntarily. Nobody had the same dance partner for very long, a much appreciated arrangement as it turned out that Ricky had two left feet and struggled hard not to hurt anyone. Louise and Vladimir moved around effortlessly and Jason did alright as long as his own invented steps - slightly inspired by disco and a twist of twerk - would work out to the beat. Ever so often Kurt got lost in Blaine's leather pants and the way the black t-shirt was glued to his chest. And whenever they got eye contact they moved together, Blaine from the stage and Kurt in the crowd as if they were all alone.

After one solid hour of energetic music the band took a break. Kurt usually didn't go backstage for that because Blaine would be busy evaluating and doing adjustments. Instead he went for a refill at the bar and made it back to the table.

"I haven't had this much fun since … like forever," Vladimir gasped out of breath as he dropped down on a chair between Michelle and Jason. "And the bass player and the drummer, you'd think they were twins the way they follow each other."

Michelle emptied a bottle. "I'm sorry but I hardly noticed anything but Blaine on that stage," Her cheeks were flustered from the heat and the dancing. "Okay, to be honest i noticed Ricky a bit too," she giggled, "but don't tell him that. Then he wants to dance again and I love my feet a bit too much for that."

"Or you could just teach him  _how_  to dance, Michelle," Kurt said from the corner of his mouth as Ricky was just approaching.

"Interesting thought," Michelle mumbled and made sure the chair next to her looked particularly unoccupied.

Ricky took the bait and dropped down next to her. "God, I rocked that dance floor," he smirked.

"Yes, you did, you really did" Kurt said encouraging. "You should ask Michelle to dance some more. I know she'd love to."

"Kuuuurt," Michelle moaned and tried to kick him under the table with her high heels, only missing him by an inch. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, like kissing Blaine backstage. You didn't really hold back this morning as I recall it."

Louise attacked Kurt from behind, ruffling his hair. "That memory is very vivid in my mind too," she laughed and joined as the last of the group.

"Oh that. It was all show off for Victor."

"That explains why he was pissed for the rest of the day," Michelle moaned. "Not saying he didn't had it coming though."

"Enough about Vic," Louise interrupted. "Tell us about the band Kurt. How long have they been together?"

"Blaine and the bass player, Matt, went to college together in Chicago and Megan and Josh joined here in New York two years ago. They had their first New York gig here in Soho, actually, but much has happened since then. I think tonight is some of the best I've heard."

"It would be cool with a guitarist though," Jason said.

Kurt smiled as his mind wandered to LA for a split second. "I think they will have one soon. Blaine has been keeping that spot for a friend of ours for more than a year now."

The conversation continued effortlessly and it seemed to be a silent agreement not to talk about work. It was constantly on their minds but it was hard to approach the real issue with Vladimir around, everybody knew that.

A few minutes before the band was supposed to start their second set Kurt excused himself to get some fresh air and when he reentered he found a spot in one of the back corners, hoping to stay unnoticed for awhile. His absolute favorite part of every gig was about to come and he didn't need an audience for that.

First song of second set would always be Blaine performing on his own, singing a love song to Kurt. It was a promise Blaine had given him the first night they had spent together, right after kissing in the rain. Blaine never mentioned from stage that these special songs were dedicated to the love of his life. It was their moment, alone, in the middle of a crowd.

He would choose a different song for each gig so Kurt never knew what was coming It could be one of his all time favorites, or a song that held a special meaning to them or pulled them back to a certain memory. At other times it would be a new song Blaine had just written. This night was no different and as soon as Blaine got behind the keyboard and let his fingers run up and down the instrument, people stopped talking and paid attention to the stage again. A sound of soft strings, delicate and fragile emerged in different suspended chords, and in the rise and fall of notes a simple and beautiful melody appeared, recognizable but somehow still new. Bent over the piano with his eyes closed Blaine entered a world that only belonged to him and Kurt. But it wasn't until his velvety voice filled the room that Kurt realized how the song chosen for this night was connected to the beginning of them, as well as representing a recently strong moment.

They had been dancing in the apartment, almost naked, clinging to each other. And in the feel of skin touching skin and long kisses, Blaine had sung these beautiful lines into Kurt's ear. He still remembered how the deep notes had vibrated from Blaine's chest into his own body, like a touch from inside.

_The first time ever I saw your face._

_I thought the sun rose in your eyes_

_And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave_

_To the dark and the endless skies, my love_

_To the dark and the endless skies_

_And the first time ever I kissed your lips_

_I felt the earth move in my hand_

_Like the trembling heart of a captive bird_

_That was there at my command, my love_

_That was there at my command, my love_

_And the first time ever I lay with you_

_I felt your heart so close to mine_

_And I knew our joy would fill the earth_

_And last till the end of time, my love_

_And it would last till the end of time, my love_

_The first time ever I saw your face_

_Your face_

_Your face_

_Your face_

The last note was belted out and then trimmed down until it was nothing but a whisper. And it wasn't until applause showered him, Blaine returned to the real world around him. He looked for Kurt in the room and parted his lips discretely when he finally found him.

"I love you," Kurt whispered, barely breathing.

* * *

Once the concert was over the band people crowded the band, wanting to talk to them so it took awhile for Blaine to get to his cold beer at Kurt's table. The girls were thrilled to finally have him on their own and one didn't let the other finish a sentence. The guys tried to be more laid back about him, but was still complimenting the concert over and over. Kurt enjoyed this part on Blaine's behalf. In the theater world it was always about  _him._ No matter how amazing Blaine's songs were in Cordelia, Kurt was the one being on stage and the one being noticed. There had never been jealousy between the two of them and Kurt enjoyed the obvious admiration Blaine was showered in.

They had all talked for a pretty long time when Kurt suddenly felt Blaine's hand squeezing his thigh under the table. He returned the touch with a smile and heard Blaine wrapping up the conversation with the others. "It was really nice talking to you guys and sweet of you to show up," he said. "But I better help pack the gear or else my goodwill in the band might crash and burn."

"Oh, we'll show up next time too," Michelle gushed, "just pleeeease let it be a weekend. I could have taken a few more of those colored drinks they serve here if I wasn't expected at the theater tomorrow."

"Oh damn, you're right, girl," Louise moaned. "We better get out butts home now. Mira you want in on a cab?"

"Sure," Vladimir said and jumped up with the rest of them. He put on his coat with flustered cheeks and a happy smile, just for being asked to join so naturally. Then he nodded to Blaine before his eyes found Kurt. "Thank you for … you know."

Kurt saw how hope had replaced defeat as the night had past by and it was as heart lifting as it could be. "I know ... and you're welcome," he replied with a smile. "See you guys tomorrow." He gave a quick wave before Blaine took his hand and led him away from the table.

Blaine skilfully found a quiet corner right next to the backstage room and without a word he buried his hands in Kurt's hair and covered his mouth with warm, soft lips. A persistent glide with his tongue made Kurt give him full access as he pulled him closer and clutched the white t-shirt Blaine had changed into. Then his hands slowly moved lower until he could finally feel, really  _feel_ Blaine's tight ass underneath the leather. He smelled musky and tasted perfectly of salt and beer.

"I have been wanting to kiss you all night," Blaine murmured and captured the corner of Kurt's mouth before he continued to the side of his neck. "You have no idea how cute and hot you looked on that dance floor. I forgot a complete verse of "Still haven't found"."

"You did?" Kurt said absentmindedly and leaned back against the wall behind him. "I never noticed."

"Megan saved my ass. She put in a couple of bars and repeated the bridge to give me a chance to start over."

Kurt's eyes shuttered as endless kisses was spread further down his neck to his collarbone. "That's what … friends are for, right?"

"Definitely," Blaine pushed Kurt's legs apart with his thigh and pressed up against his crotch.

"Oh god, this is ... this is soooo nice."

Blaine kissed him again with a buzzing hum. "It's just too bad that I have to stop again, though."

"No, no, no, you don't need to stop," Kurt complained and tightened his grip.

"I do because I'm getting way too excited."

"But excited is good." Kurt stumbled over the words. "Excited makes your body tingle and your mind go crazy until you lose your breath … and don't give a damn who can hear you, because … the world has stopped turning anyway and nothing else matters."

Blaine put his hands on the wall on each side of Kurt's head, still pushing him back with his lower body. "Which is why we are not going to have sex here. I want you to myself and I want to take my time with you." His smile was gentle and content, so sure of himself and the power he held over Kurt that it in itself made Kurt's mind spiral out of control. "I want you to go home now and get some sleep. Packing up here can take a couple of hours."

"Blaaine. you can't give me like the longest, most amazing foreplay ever and then send me home to sleep."

"But I'm not going to  _let_  you sleep, silly boy. I will wake you up the moment I slip under the sheets. And then I want you to be naked."

"I can do naked."

"I know you can."

"You are such a god damned tease!"

"But I'm worth waiting for."

"Of course you are. It's just … that I'm not tired at all. And I don't see why I can't stay here and help you pack up?"

"Because packing gear is boring and I'm not that easily fooled, you look exhausted and you have been through a lot today. Now do what your protective boyfriend says, be nice, go home and get some sleep."

"But you have to promise you'll wake me up." Kurt looked like a kid who had been promised an ice cream and now was told to wait till after dinner.

"You are too cute when you're tired, a bit tipsy and very needy," Blaine chuckled.

"I'm not needy," Kurt objected and went for the soft spot behind Blaine's ear. "And I'm hardly tipsy. But maybe, and just maybe, I'ma _little_ tired."

Blaine put their foreheads together. "See, I know stuff about you."

"Okay." Kurt finally gave in. "I'll get a cab, go home and rest for a while. But you owe me ... big time! I'm just saying."

Blaine pursed his lips before a smirk broke through. "See you later, baby."

"See you," Kurt sighed and went for the door with heavy feet.

Blaine couldn't get rid of the stupid smile that seemed to cover his face as he got started on the microphones and cables. He had the cutest and most amazing boyfriend in the world, and besides making sure he got some sleep Blaine wanted to protect him forever. It had been such a weird day and he had spend a lot of time trying to figure out what he really felt about the Dubrowski situation. He had anticipated to feel relieved once the identity of the mystery caller was known, but that had not been the case at all. He was furious, actually. He despised the guy and it killed him that he couldn't just push Dubrowski out of Kurt's life. Still, no matter how he felt or how his perception of the situation was, Kurt was the one who had to deal with the guy on a daily basis and it had to be his gut feeling that counted.

Matt and Josh had started bickering again in the background and  _that_  problem, however, was Blaine's to deal with. He stepped up on the stage again to help Megan with the keyboard. "We have to talk about these two," he said quietly and caught her eyes.

"Tell me about it," Megan said tired. "I can't figure out what is happening."

"Maybe Josh is just getting older and refuses to be treated like the kid he was two years ago," Blaine suggested.

"Look, I'm not defending Matt if that's all it is, but we need a band meeting soon, because this is driving me nuts."

Blaine nodded. "I'll take care of it, Megan, I promise, but let's split them for now. You and Matt can load the car, then I'm helping Josh with the drums."

Megan chuckled. "They are like siblings not allowed to sit next to each other."

"I know. Maybe it'll pass when they grow up."

Megan shot him a bright smile. "The siblings aside, tonight was incredible, Blaine."

"It was!"

"And .. um … the leather pants are keepers," she added with a smirk. "Definitely keepers."

* * *

When Blaine had finally dropped off everybody and locked himself into the apartment his feet were aching and he was tired to the bones. Everything was dark and quiet so it seemed like Kurt had listened to his advice. He kicked off his shoes, promising Kurt in his mind to pick them up first thing in the morning. Then he stumbled into the bathroom and stretched as he pulled off his t-shirt. The pants were somewhat of a struggle and he was grateful Kurt wasn't watching him undress, because there were no sexy way to get out of them, at all.

In the shower he relived the concert with a happy feeling inside. To some extent he had to agree with Josh, it could be exciting to play bigger venues with a great light show and a blasting sound. But he would miss the intimacy of playing in the bars. It felt good to have the audience close and feed from the energy they provided in a smaller room.

He let the hot water run down his body, loosening up tired muscles as the dust of the day disappeared down the drain. He used Kurt's favorite shower gel and soaped his body from top to toe until he was clean and smelled nice everywhere. He didn't step out of the shower until the bathroom was completely damp. Then he carefully rubbed himself dry with a towel as his thoughts wandered off to a very naked Kurt sleeping in the bed. Anticipation built in his abdomen and made his cock twitch and all tiredness disappeared by the mere thought of what was coming. He walked quietly into the darkness of the bedroom, his curls still damp and his skin warm from the shower. He took a moment to enjoy the sight of the gorgeous man, lying there, peacefully stretched out in front of him.

Kurt had fallen asleep right in the middle of the bed, probably to make it impossible for Blaine to sneak in without waking him up. He was lying on his side, facing the opposite side of the room. The sheet was loosely wrapped around his body, revealing a blessed amount of beautiful alabaster skin. The curve of his ass was visible underneath the sheet and his top leg was slightly bent, rounding it even more. His back was strong and lean, peppered with freckles Blaine had kissed a hundred times before, if not more. Finally his eyes found the scar on Kurt's neck; for everybody to see but only for  _him_  to nuzzle.

He lifted the sheet, crawled underneath it and spooned Kurt gently from behind, feeling the warm heat from his skin. Kurt stirred in his sleep and pushed back until his ass fit perfectly up against Blaine's crotch. Their bodies had a way of responding to the familiarity of each other and this felt like home.

Blaine hummed and let his fingers run through Kurt's chestnut hair from the backside of his neck and up. With the tip of his fingers he scraped and massaged his scalp, shifting between featherlight touches and firm grips. Kurt sighed in pleasure and shifted his position slightly to get even closer. Blaine finished with the hair and ran his hand down Kurt's chest, from the the dip of the collarbone, past his nipples to his belly, soft skinned, but strong and further down to his cock, twitching by the touch. Kurt's body responded as he surfaced completely from sleep. "I was just dreaming about you," he mumbled with a lopsided cute smile.

"What did you dream about?" Blaine asked and kept his hand wandering around to new places until it returned to the favorites spots.

"Just the usual, you know, that we were having amazing, fucking hot sex."

Blaine buried his head in the crook of Kurt's neck, smiling against the soft skin. "Oh let's analyze that. I think you were denied sex in a previous life and now you just can't get enough."

"It was  _not_  in a previous life, honey, it was a couple of hours ago," Kurt reminded him resentfully.

"Aah right. Now what to do with all that sexual tension then?"

"Well you tell me, you seems to be the smart one of us."

"I won't deny that," Blaine said and let his hand run up and down Kurt's inner thighs. Then he made up his mind. "Okay, get on your stomach and I'll see what I can do." He got up as Kurt obeyed with a satisfied groan and rolled on his stomach, settling into a comfortable position. Blaine searched in the drawer and found a small bottle of oil and some lube. Then he carefully straddled Kurt, making sure to sit right below his ass so Kurt could feel him.

A shaky breath escaped Kurt's mouth. "This is very promising, Mr. Anderson."

Blake poured oil into his hands and warmed it up a bit. "Now no more talking, baby, this is a time for pleasure and should be enjoyed fully.

"Okay, I'll shut up now," Kurt whispered. "Unless you're asking me something. Then I have to answer, right? Anything else would be down right rude. And I don't want to be rude."

"Kuuurt!"

"Sorry."

Blaine leaned in and began rubbing small circles from Kurt's neck down to the top of his back. His hands worked effortlessly, loosening up tense muscles with long strokes and putting pressure with the heel of his hands on infiltrated areas. When he needed to put weight in the pressure he would get up on his knees, causing his cock to brush up against Kurt's ass and making him squirm subtley underneath him. He took his time, working through every inch, caressing, massaging … loving.

He refilled on oil with a secretive smile as Kurt pushed up against him once more. To make Kurt respond to him physically gave him eminence satisfaction as well as a profound sense of confidence. He  _knew_  Kurt, better than anyone and he was the one making him feel this way. He rubbed oil between the palm of his hands and continued further down Kurt's back to his strong midsection and his narrowed waist. The easy glide of his hands on the pale skin made Kurt relax, humming in pleasure ever so often and when Blaine finished with a feather light stroke all the way down his spine, the goosebumps were followed by a deep sigh - one of those sighs that release all bad energy and makes you forget about the day.

He moved on to his arms, one at a time, from his shoulders, down to his biceps and his underarms. He finished with his hands and fingers, massaging the palms, each finger and the big muscle connecting the thumb to the rest of the hand, again shifting slightly in his position on top of Kurt. This time a strangled moan escaped him. The sound wrapped Blaine in pleasure and he was getting harder, much harder. He moved a bit further down Kurt's body, pushed his arms up above his head and made a long firm stroke all the way from Kurt's fingers, down his arms, to his sides and stopping right at his hips. Kurt stretched and lifted his ass up again in an involuntarily jerk before he exhaled through pursed lips. Blaine knew he was fighting the urge to ask for a fuck and he wanted to assure him. He leaned over until his body covered Kurt, intertwined their fingers and pushed his cock up against the crack of his ass. "I'm getting there, baby, don't worry," he whispered. "I just want to enjoy the moment a little bit longer.

Kurt gasped as Blaine's cock got caught. And a shiver ran through Blaine too as he was getting painfully hard. He let go of Kurt's hands and pushed himself back up in the straddling position. Then he settled for a bit more oil and rubbed it on Kurt's ass, massaging from the hip bones up to sides, moving closer and closer to the middle. Kurt was breathing heavily with a whimpering sound when Blaine finally let a finger run down his crack, from the top, past his entrance to the soft skin right underneath his balls; up and down pausing longer at the entrance each time, rubbing small circles, increasing the pressure bit by bit.

Kurt groaned from the back of his throat and pushed his ass up against Blaine's finger. Blaine slipped down from him, prompting him on the side again. Then he spread Kurt's legs and pushed his top leg upwards, just enough to adjust the angle before he increased the pressure even more and slipped a finger inside, slowly working his way in and out. Kurt let himself be completely available, pulling his leg up higher and losing all self consciousness. There was never a time he was more beautiful than this, so full of need and falling apart in Blaine's hands. There was not a spot on his body that was off limits, Blaine was allowed to touch everywhere and to kiss him exactly where he wanted. Every inch of his body belonged to Blaine.

Kurt turned his face and tangled his fingers into Blaine's damp curls and pulled him in for a kiss, moaning as Blaine kept fingering him. Blaine was leaking by now and all his plans about teasing Kurt until he would burst was turned against him and he had to break lose. "I need a moment, baby," he panted.

Kurt licked his lips and nodded flustered and happy. He got on his back and cupped Blaine's cheek. "You are so amazing," he whispered and peppered kisses over his face. "So absolutely wonderful. I forgot to breathe there for a moment."

Blaine bit his lip and let his eyes linger on every feature of Kurt's face, then he smiled. "I completely adore you, you know that, right?"

"I know," he said against his lips.

They panted into every kiss, nuzzled noses and intertwined shaky fingers for awhile until they were ready Blaine straddled him once more, but this time from the front, and when he reached for the lube Kurt's blue eyes followed him, breathing heavier again. But when Blaine used his gelled finger on himself, Kurt's eyes grew bigger and darker. He got up on his elbows. "What are you doing?" he asked with a caught breath.

"I'm preparing myself for you," Blaine whispered

"That is just … that is," Kurt pulled him down and followed his arm down to the finger that was buried by now. "That's so hot … that's." He exhaled shakily. "I can do this … I can hold it .. but, not for long."

With Kurt's hand on top of Blaine's fingers, moving in and out, they kissed until Blaine was ready. Then Blaine steered the tip of Kurt's cock to his entrance and lowered himself down on him with a hiss of pain and pleasure. He adjusted with shuttering eyelids and when he was relaxing again he captured the blue eyes one more time. "Now fuck me, baby," he said.


	18. Tapas And Onions

Santana hurried into the airport, pacing and hoping she wasn't too late. She had been waiting for Brittany to the very last minute, but she obviously had chickened out. Santana halfway blamed herself for pushing too hard, but the other half of her was pissed for being ditched just before departure. So Britt was nervous, but weren't they all? She rushed through security check and had to go back through the metal detector twice because she had forgotten to remove a belt and a big bracelet. The guard rolled her eyes at her blatantly which only served her a  _If you keep rolling you'll have a beautiful view of the emptiness that should have been your brain._

She had been seconds away from being held back and decided to thank her lucky star with a drink as soon as the plane was airborne -  _with_ her on board. She hated to be let down and that was exactly what she felt Britt had done now. When she was younger things like that would have been caught in her rock solid armor, but she had found that her fortress had leaks now, it cracked at its corners and made it easier for people to hurt her.

With closed eyes she tried to wind down for real. It was time to let go of Brittany and concentrate on the LA trip instead. She would stay with Mercedes for three days, catch up on old times and spend some time with Sam. From what she had been told he was improving. He still had what Mercedes described as "heavy sessions with a therapist" and bad days now and then, but overall there was a change for the better. Santana didn't really know what to say to him, not being a big pep-talker at all. And she refused to fill him with a lot of crap about everything being as it once was, because it wouldn't. Life marks you, for better or worse.

Her shoulders slowly lowered themselves and the angry knot in her stomach loosened up. She and Sam had never really been close despite their dating history, which had been a joke from the very beginning and just her way of getting back at Quinn. She had been a bitch to him; mainly because of Britt, but a bitch never the less. With that in mind she wasn't really sure if she would be helping anybody by showing up but it was a bit too late to regret now. Mercedes would pick her up at the airport and drop her off at the rehab center. Later they would have dinner together and catch up on some girl talk on their own. Thinking about it these schedules with different visitors were probably just as much for Mercedes as it was for Sam, which was completely okay.

She closed her eyes again and let herself drift away, soon dreaming about the blonde girl with the cutest dimples ever that had conquered her heart when she had needed it the most.

* * *

Kurt was slowly surfacing from the few hours of sleep he had managed to sneak in after an amazing night. He stretched lazily and enjoyed the feeling of the soft sheet underneath him. Blaine was propped up on one elbow next to him, drawing patterns with his fingers down his back, along the spine until his hand found Kurt's perfectly rounded ass and stayed there.

"A penny for your thoughts'' Kurt whispered with his eyes still closed.

"I'll sell them for a dollar, " Blaine replied with a rusty voice.

Kurt bit his lip and a dimple showed as he failed not to smile. "I'll give you a dollar then."

Blaine kissed him on the dimple and nuzzled his neck with a hum of pleasure as his hand kept caressing Kurt's ass. "Do you think we will grow old together?" he asked and scooted closer until their noses almost touched.

Kurt opened his eyes and enjoyed the sight of his lovers ruffled hair and the stubble showing as a little more than a dark shadow. He let a finger follow Blaine's strong jaw line and lingered in the flip his stomach made of happiness. "Of course we'll grow old together. We will be this classy fashionable couple with a free pass to every Broadway show we could possibly desire to see, living in an extravagant penthouse apartment bought for all the money we've earned throughout our successful careers." His hands continued down to Blaine's chest, mapping out his collarbones. "And as long as we remember to take our medication and our afternoon naps, we'll be fine."

Blaine dropped his head in a grin. "What if we grow fat and bald?"

"You and me? Never! We'll be health freaks, drinking lumpy, thick vegetable juice, jogging around in Central Park with matching outfits and a small obnoxious dog, named, Sir Andrew, who takes turns in our arms, because he's too distinguished to walk on his own and because - let's face it - I'm afraid he'll ruin his cashmere coat that we've had especially made for him."

"Sir Andrew," Blaine laughed, "are you sure?"

"Of course, it's a completely suitable name for a dog. And besides, I've visualized it all, for both of us, so it  _has_  to happen that way."

Blaine pressed a soft kiss against his lips. "Sometimes I love you so much that it feels like my heart will explode."

"But it won't, Blaine. It will just grow bigger. And when you die, at 100 years old, happy and content with the life you've lived, you will have the biggest heart ever, containing me and our children and our grandchildren."

Blaine disappeared in the pools of the blue ocean in front of him. "I .. didn't know … I mean I wasn't sure if kids were a part of your visualization to be honest."

Kurt scooted even closer and wrapped his leg around Blaine's hip. "Of course they are a part of it. I mean not now, but somewhere in the future … and..." He suddenly trailed off.

"And what?" Blaine prompted gently.

"I just … I don't want to be an old dad, that's all."

"Oh, baby," Blaine whispered and put their foreheads together with a shaky breath. He was sleep deprived and over emotional but Kurt's simple statements fueled all his hopes and dreams that every single day seemed to let themselves be known to him.

"What? Does this come as a surprise?" Kurt asked and locked eyes with him again.

"Yes, I mean no, I figured we would get there eventually, but I've always imagined it would take some persuasion."

"Why?"

"Because … your dreams are so big, they've always been, and kids might slow us down a bit … well that's actually an understatement, it will change our lives completely on so many levels."

"But, having children with you is bigger than any Broadway fantasy I might have ever had," Kurt answered sincerely. "Broadway will always be there and dreams sometimes change as a life is lived. I just … Blaine there is nothing more important to me than you and our future together. And whatever we might have to give up once we become parents it will be worth it all. And my life contains a number of dreams that shift and change. It's the drive that matters to me ... that I get to do stuff, create things and ... make a difference."

"I think by heart just grew a little bigger," Blaine mumbled against Kurt's lips before he kissed him and flipped them around until he was on top of Kurt, intertwining their hands over his head. Kurt's response was nothing but muffled want and an eager mouth.

* * *

"You were right," Ally bellowed the moment Kurt picked up his phone. He had just arrived at the theater and despite the lack of sleep last night he felt surprisingly rested and happy … and sore.

"Of course I was right, when am I not?"

"I got the phone call," Ally continued and ignored Kurt's exploding confidence.

"I'm sure you did, but from whom?"

"From Stevenson, Kurt, try to keep up here! They want to rent our costumes and I have been offered a job as a consultant for as long as the play will run."

"I  _knew_  it," Kurt said excitedly and stepped into his dressing room. He shook his coat down his shoulders and put it on the chair before a quick check up in the mirror. He was met by his own glowing face, eyes popping, cheeks red and a ridiculous smile on his face. It had been a perfect night and morning with Blaine and between the pressure he could put on Dubrowski from now on and the hiring of Ally everything seemed so much brighter than yesterday. "Stevenson is all about the money, as he should be. When are you starting?"

"Monday," Ally explained. "We have to deliver all the costumes by tomorrow though. Do you think that's possible?"

"Let me talk to Cooper, maybe he can pull some strings if he isn't too hung up on work."

"Life savior as always. Can we have lunch today, Kurt? I kind of feel out of the loop here and I need to know how to handle different issues, especially if I'm working with Dubrowski's sister  _and_  the leader of the costumes department, who must have been overruled in order to pull me in. I need a how-to-handle-a-possible-crisis-situation boost in the right direction."

"Sure." Kurt pulled up his script and checked the power on his laptop. "I'm meeting Blaine at The Orion for lunch - they have the most amazing tapas there - you can join us."

"Would that be okay? I mean you and Blaine don't need that time on your own?"

"No … we've had … time."

"Jeez, Kurt, could you be any more obvious."

"What do you want me say," Kurt laughed. "Yes you can come. We're not going on a date."

"Well I'm glad somebody is getting something," she stated.

Kurt stopped on his way. "What do you mean? Do I need to take this conversation somewhere private?"

"God no," she sighed. "I've just been so tired lately that my body has forgotten what sex feels like."

"Ally," Kurt whined. "This is definitely out of my comfort zone. Don't you have girlfriends to talk to about girl parts?"

"It's not girl parts, Kurt, it's just sex and besides, I'd much rather talk to you," she said amused, knowing exactly that something like this could freak Kurt out in a matter of seconds . "Buuut I'll let you go this time. Now enjoy rehearsal and I'll see you and Blaine at The Orion."

"Thank goodness and yes I'll see you there?" He hung up with a head shake and took a seat next to Michelle and Louise. Michelle was slouching in the chair, dangerously close to falling down on the floor and Louise had her eyes closed shut. "Morning ladies, I see you're both ready to give it your all today," he chimed loudly.

Michelle shot him a death glare and pushed herself up again. "Now why are you all cheerful?" she groaned.

"Well, why are you not?" he replied and caught a sight of Vladimir searching for somewhere to sit. He seemed lost again, probably not sure if the new friendships he'd made last night was strong enough to see the light of day. Kurt smiled and nodded to the seat next to him.

"Colored drinks," Louise explained on Michelle's behalf. "And I'm just ridiculously tired." She looked up at Vladimir's cautious face. "Oh hi Mira; hope you're not as annoying as Kurt."

Vladimir's shoulder relaxed as he dropped down next to Kurt. "Too many colored drinks?" he suggested as he took in the miserable sight of what was supposed to be Cordelia for the rest of the day.

"Weren't you cutting down on those last night?" Kurt asked.

"I had two, okay," Michelle bit back, "two fucking drinks."

"And did you check up on the percentage of alcohol?"

"They tasted like sodapops, alright, just a lot better, how was I supposed to know."

"Ah, the part that  _tasted better_  was your percentage, honey."

"And  _now_  you tell me? You know I really Blaine blame … blame .. Blaime - oh shit this will be a long day."

"That's it," Kurt said with an eyeroll. "If you stumble at "blame Blaine" you need coffee to survive your lines." He jumped up and headed backstage to get two cups of coffee for the girls.

"Hey, sweetie, how did the concert go last night?"

Kurt turned slowly, trying not to spill hot coffee on his shirt and was met by Charleen's charming smile. "Morning, lady," he said and kissed her cheek. "It was amazing, you and Santana should've been there."

"I know, but I had to drop Santana off at the airport by the crack of dawn."

"So she on her way. Did Brittany go with her?"

"Nope, Tana had a ticket for her and all but she just didn't show."

"Too bad … but I really appreciate that she went anyway."

"Yeah I know." she looked at the two cups. "Who are you serving?"

"I'll show you," he said with a crooked grin as they left backstage and returned to the theater room where the briefing was only minutes away. "Now take a look at Michelle and Louise."

"Oh my god," Charleen chuckled. "That's serious."

"It is, Michelle is not even talking straight."

"Let's hope Dubrowski is in a good mood then."

"Speak of the devil," Kurt murmured when he caught sight of the director entering the stage. "I better get back to my seat now." He balanced the cups carefully as he got down between Vladimir and Michelle, passed out the coffee and muted his cell. Michelle sat up straight the moment she spotted Dubrowski and started on her coffee with a wary look at the stage. Nobody wanted to be caught off guard from the start.

"Morning everyone," Dubrowski bellowed from the stage. "There is no need to remind you that opening night is not more than three and a half weeks away and I honestly thought we would have things coming together at this point. But we're obviously not, despite my instructions."

He sounded the same, Kurt thought right away, but something about his appearance was off. Instead of his elegant way of moving around on stage and his head held high so he could stare down at them all, he seemed hunched and tired. His dark hair, usually coiffed to such a perfection that not a single hair turned the wrong way, was falling down.

Dubrowski scanned them one by one, row after row as he continued. "Costume fittings will start Monday, Charleen will email the schedule, which  _must_  be followed precisely . Due to an unexplainable mistrust to the costume department they are now renting all costumes and hours of work is wasted. But my hands are tied even though it means …" Dubrowski stopped abruptly when his scrutinizing gaze reached Kurt and Vladimir, sitting next to each other. He cleared his throat and tried to continue. "... even though it means … that … " With a frantic movement he browsed through the papers in his hands as his eyes switched between the schedules and Kurt. He scratched the nape of his neck. "I um … sorry .. where was I?" His head snapped to Charleen.

"Um … costumes," she answered confused.

"Yes." Dubrowski nodded, "yes, costumes. Well unfortunately we will start rehearsing with the orchestra next week too … which means that … the two schedules could be conflicting." A completely lost expression overtook his stoic face.

Vladimir twitched and turned in his seat. "There is something terribly wrong," he stuttered.

Kurt looked at the worried kid and offered some reassurance. "Even your uncle can have an off day. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Yes, he can have an off day alright," Vladimir said and bit his nails nervously, "but he never  _ever_  shows it."

* * *

"Happy to see you all alive and well," Blaine said and pressed a quick kiss against Kurt's lips when they met at The Orion. Kurt caught him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back in for another kiss, this time lingering a bit longer. Blaine chuckled. "What was that all about?"

"I just needed more than a peck," Kurt responded with a cute smile. Then he continued. "I am more than alive I'd say; turns out Dubrowski is scared shitless that I've been running my mouth to Stevenson and then it clearly rubbed him the wrong way too see Vladimir sitting next to me." He got down on the chair Blaine had pulled out for him.

"So he has been kicking and screaming all morning?"

"No the opposite. He's still not satisfied with  _anything_  but at the same time he acts flustered and confused. It's really odd."

"Maybe he will behave from now on if you keep him uncertain about the consequences of his ridiculous scheme."

"I hope so." Kurt put his hand on top of Blaine's and let his fingers run along the back of his hand up to the knuckles and back again. His dark hair curled a bit at the nape of his neck and Kurt had to restrain himself not to let his fingers play around with them. "You look handsome today," he said mildly, not too interested in letting their few stolen moments be all about Dubrowski.

Blaine turned his hand and let their palms meet. "It could be because I've been all over this incredible hot guy for most of the night, a guy I love more than he'll ever know."

Kurt lingered on Blaine's full lips and the glimpse of his tongue behind pearly white teeth. "He knows," Kurt whispered back with a flirty tilt of his head. "And if Ally wasn't coming I would have invited you to a  _completely_  different lunch."

"God we need time for ourselves," Blaine burst out. "We need a vacation, Kurt, and not one of those  _all-inclusive-five-star-hotel_ kind of trips. But something small and simple, maybe in a cabin in the mountains, with a view to die for, where we can stay naked all day if we want to and never leave the bed." The intensity of Blaine's plead revealed that this was more than a random idea or a fantasy and Kurt suddenly recognized signs of tiredness in his demeanor as Blaine kept talking. "I would  _love_  to take you to Italy. I went to Europe with my parents every summer when I was a child, visiting Spain, Germany, France, Portugal, but my personal favorite was always Italy."

"I actually thought Paris would have been your preferred destination."

"Dont' get me wrong, Paris is amazing and romantic, but it's still a big city, crowded with tourists." He bit his lip as he got excited. "In Italy there are five small towns near the coastline, together they are called Cinque Terre. They are all connected by some of the most incredible hiking trails. Between two of the towns, up in the mountains there is a village called Guvano, surrounded by vineyards. You can only get there by foot."

Kurt rested his chin on the heel of his hand and lingered on every word. Blaine was beautiful like that, eyes shining with the memory. "Tell me about Guvano then," he said blissfully.

"Well, you kind of wake up to this mesmerizing view of the sun climbing over the nearest mountain, claiming the valley more and more by the minute. And after breakfast it's time to walk down to Corniglia where they have a huge outdoor market with fresh fruit and vegetables, flowers, and spices. There is a bakery at every other corner and a local butcher selling all kinds of different meat. You can buy everything you could possibly need for a supreme Italian dinner. And after climbing up on the mountain again you have a light lunch and then it's time for a siesta on a hammock in the shadow, being ridiculously lazy because that's all people expect of you. And if the heat gets to you anyway there is always a lake near by with clear, cool water. Dinner is usually prepared in an outdoor kitchen with a glass of wine from one of the local producers and when you later dine it's to the view of the sun saying goodnight by making the mountains glow with a golden promise of a beautiful day again tomorrow." Blaine paused. "You know, if happiness could be bottled up, I'd go there and catch it, saving it for a rainy New York day."

"Why haven't you told me about this before? Baby, I would  _love_  to go there," Kurt said breathless. "Let's promise each other to make room for a trip like that."

"I had kind of forgotten about that place again. We only went to Guvano once, mainly because Cooper kept complaining about the lack of action and cute, hot girls."

Kurt got eager. "If we save up some money, maybe from the costume rent we could go late in the summer."

"That would definitely keep me going for a bit longer."

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I am, just … you know … worn out, sort of stretched," Blaine explained.

"I'll make you feel better, honey. I promise," Kurt said and let his urge to protect Blaine flow free. "And you're right, our pace is ridiculous at times and with Sam and Dubrowski on top of it, it's been rough."

Blaine lifted their laced hands up to his lips and kissed Kurt's fingertips one by one. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Blaine, and just remember that Sam's struggle and Dubrowski's regime will not last forever."

Blaine smiled encouraged and then he suddenly nodded ahead of them, prompting Kurt to follow his stare just as Ally came through the door, carrying more bags than she could possibly manage. Her red hair was wind blown and wild and she kept blowing locks away from her eyes as she made a beeline to their table.

"Hi guys," she panted and let them free her from half of her bags. "Sorry I'm late, but there was this amazing sale, 50% off in one of my favorite accessory stores. I simply couldn't pass on such an opportunity."

"No of course you couldn't," Blaine assured her and tried to stack some of her things on an empty chair at the table.

"You should have brought Fred to carry all that stuff for you," Kurt suggested.

"Nooo that would have been a terrible idea. He would go through all my bags and have the audacity to claim that I already had something just like it at home."

"Which you clearly do not," Kurt said.

"Of course not, that would be ridiculous." She rummaged through one of her bags and found a red hair tie with a triumphant smile. "This will make my life a lot easier," she said and pulled her hair through it and with a twist she had made a ruffled bun. The locks that had escaped the tie were put behind her ears. "God I'm hungry, have you guys ordered yet?"

"No, we were waiting for you," Blaine said.

"Let's just hope we wont have to wait too long then," she whined.

Blaine couldn't hide a small smile as he turned to a waiter. "We would like to order now, this lovely lady is near starvation and she is a very dear friend of ours, so her needs have to be taken care of." He pointed at Ally who was already scrutinizing the menu, but still managed to snort at his silly remark.

The waiter reached them with an ear to ear smile and helped them decide on nine different tapas, all small courses of Italian specialties they could share.

"So what did Stevenson say on the phone," Kurt asked curiously when the waiter had left again with a polite nod.

"We actually talked for a long time. I think it was hard for him to decide whether I should just be on call from time to time or should be a part of the finishing race. But from what he told me they are going to need all the help they can get. They've only finished a small part of the costumes, and considering the three weeks that's left I honestly don't know how they would have managed without our stuff. I think Eva, who's head of the department, has been pulling her hair out because the extra staff isn't working fast enough."

Kurt raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"He didn't say it was because of Dubrowski's sister, but he certainly indicated it." Ally clarified.

"My guess is that she was not nearly as experienced as a certain  _someone_  made her look."

"I don't know," Ally said as she kept an eye out for the food. "And it's none of my business either, except … it  _will_  be by Monday, right."

"To some extent, yes," Kurt agreed. "I don't know how much you can steer out of trouble to be honest. You have to be there and get a good sense of Eva to really know, I guess. I don't know if she'll find herself overruled or if she will be counting herself lucky just to have you."

Ally wrinkled her nose. "If it turns into a bitch fight about power and rank I wouldn't know what to do. I'm not cut out for that kind of stuff."

"Look, Eva must feel overloaded. If they are that far behind the schedule and can't keep up with deadlines, she better suck it up and welcome you with open arms. And if she doesn't I'm pretty sure Charleen can help you sort things out."

"Did you maintain the original price? Blaine asked curiously as he was head of finances in Blackbird.

Ally nodded. "I did, but I'm pretty sure I could have raised it."

"I actually think it would be smart to go the other way around and give him a discount," Blaine suggested. "He hinted to Kurt that he might be willing to offer us help in some sort of manager role and his connections could be worth a lot down the line. It would be a great way to network and get closer to the big guys in the Broadway industry."

Kurt gave him an adoring smile. "I agree. We should definitely work out some new arrangement with him."

Ally sighed. "I'll leave that up to you guys as long as I get fed before I die."

"It's only been ten minutes."

"Feels like thirty. So what are you guys up to this weekend?"

Blaine shot Kurt a secret look. "Not much. Things have been crazy since the wedding and I'm fine with some quietness and alone time."

"How are things with Sam?" she asked and ignored the chemistry building up across the table.

"Good, as far as we're told. Sam is still not calling on his own but we're in touch with Mercedes or Puck and Artie almost every day. And there seems to be some progress."

"Some progress? I thought that once his debt was paid off he'd be all fine again."

"Me too," Blaine admitted, "but apparently the wounds are deeper than that."

They were interrupted by the waiter who brought the first dishes and arranged everything in the center of the table. When he returned with the rest of the courses he gave them each an empty plate to pour up on. Everything was beautifully arranged and smelled delicious.

"I think this will be worth the wait," Kurt said to Ally as he tried to decide where to start.

But Ally suddenly frowned . "Did we order something with onion? I suddenly smell onion all over the place."

"Um, maybe in the salad with pesto," Blaine suggested and pointed to the plate nearest him.

"But can't you smell it?" Ally covered her nose, "it's pretty intense. Maybe there's something wrong with them. I'm not sure we should eat from that dish."

Kurt leaned in and sniffed to the plate. Then he took a bite and tasted it carefully. "It's delicious, there's definitely nothing wrong with it."

"Well, I'm not having any, so you guys can share that plate," Ally stated.

Kurt side eyed Blaine and gave him a knowing look and Blaine nodded subtle.

"Okay I saw that." Ally pointed at them with her fork. "What was that about? I just don't like the smell of onions, okay."

"Have you always felt that way about onions?" Blaine asked with squinting eyes.

"I don't know," Ally said and rolled her eyes as she poured up and began to eat. "No probably not, which is why I think there's something wrong with them. But if you don't care about food poisoning fine with me."

"Okay, that's it," Kurt said and removed the dish with the onions to an empty table next to them. "Let's go through this, Ally, shall we? You've always hated fried food and suddenly you have this … maybe I should call it cravings … for fried shrimp. You are over emotional and tired. You and Fred had to pass the welcome back party for Coops and Katie because you weren't feeling well and now you can't stand the smell of onions. Does any of this ring a bell?"

"That's all completely random? Yes I have been under the weather lately and so what?"

"Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

Ally was getting annoyed. "Apparently Kurt. You don't normally beat around the bush. So by all means."

Kurt put down his knife and fork. "Okay, I … never thought I should ask a woman this question. Ally ... are you late?"

Ally glared at him dumbstruck. "Late as in …"

"Um, yeah."

She chuckled. "Oh my God, Kurt. If you think I'm pregnant I have to disappoint you."

"And you know that for a fact," Blaine asked, locking eyes with her.

She waved her hands in a defensive manner. "Okay guys, listen up. I take birth control religiously serious. No kidding. I haven't got the time for kids at this point"

"So you're not late … everything is right … on time." Kurt concluded.

She shrugged. "I've never really kept that much track … I …" She turned completely silent and two red stress spots showed on her neck. Then she grabbed her phone and browsed frantically through her calendar, mumbling to herself. "No that cannot be .. it had to be before that .. but ..." Then all blood drained from her face as she slowly put her phone back. "I'm late," she huffed out. "I'm … seriously late. Oh god, this cannot be true." She covered her mouth and with a hyperventilating moan tears formed in her eyes.

"Hey, girl," Kurt said concerned and moved his chair closer to her. "Don't be upset about it. I could be completely wrong. I mean what do I know about girly stuff. It was a silly question to ask anyway and really none of our business."

"But it all fits, Kurt. And I  _have_  been feeling weird lately, it just never ever crossed my mind. How could I be so stupid. Everybody with a brain should have done the math. But I just …" Her voice hit a frantic stage. "I mean, not to get into details, but we use two types of birth control and we never ever take a chance, nope we're not the kind of couple who risk it, because I've always been terrified of getting pregnant and I've always felt I could rely on the steps we took to prevent it … that this exact thing wasn't going to happen, and then, how on earth - no I'm going larger here - how in the UNIVERSE is it possible to get pregnant anyway. My trust in birth control is ruined forever and my only option left is celibacy." She raised her voice even further, not bothered about the curious looks the other guests send their way. "And I'll tell you right now, right here that I SUCK at celibacy. So just … explain to me, how can this happen?"

Both men looked at her with big eyes, slightly scared of the force of nature they had poked to rise in front of them. Blaine was the first to dare peek out after the storm. "I um … guess those little swimmers can be very persistent when they want to." Unluckily his words were accompanied by his hand swimming in midair, like a fish making a swipe with its tail. Ally glared at his hand with lightning in her green eyes..

Blaine stopped the motion instantly and hid his hand under the table. "Sorry," he whispered.

"Ally, why is this such a disaster?" Kurt asked, braving up to approach the angry dragon that was still spewing fire.

"Because," Ally said and flipped in a heartbeat to a vulnerable, trembling girl. "Don't you see, this could be the end of my career. No more boot camps, no more consulting jobs where I can jump in last minute, no more late nights bent over a sewing machine. My time stops being  _my_ time and will be consumed by this little needing human being that will be my responsibility for the next 18 years. It's just the way it is. I've seen it with my friends over and over again."

"But don't you ever want to have kids?" Blaine asked.

Ally took the tissues he handed her with a grateful nod. "Yes, yes of course we want to have kids … when I'm 36 or 38 .. you know, once my name has been established. But not now at 25. And besides, I don't expect you guys to understand. It's different for men, their careers don't get put on stand by the same way."

"Now hang on a minute," Kurt objected, "besides the 9 months of pregnancy I don't see the difference and it's like you're leaving Fred completely out of the equation here. If you have a deadline I know Fred would be there in a heartbeat, taking care of the baby. He'd probably fight you for just as much time with that kid as you have. And besides, Blaine and I might be joining you in a couple of years, who knows."

Blaine bit his bottom lip as an explosion of joy curled its way around his heart and Ally stopped crying for a minute. "Really guys?"

"Really," Kurt repeated with a sheepish smile as he winked at Blaine. "Look, nothing can stop your creativity, Ally, it seeps out of every button hole and every accessory you own. You are an unstoppable force and being a mother will enhance that, not take it away. And the rest of it is nothing but practical matters that can be solved. Maybe we can turn half of the loft into a nursery and hire a nanny for the days where you have to work or maybe there will be a daycare near by. Everything is possible."

Blaine got eager too. "And just think about it, Ally. What if it's a little girl? Then you can spoil her with colorful clothes that you have designed and put flowers on her bald head. She'll be like a little cute mini Ally. You could even start your own New York line of childrens clothes, be the coolest brand."

Ally still snuffled but she couldn't keep a smile from showing now and then as they kept encouraging her.

Kurt squeezed her hand. "Think about all the Aunts and Uncles the baby will have. Aunt Santana, aunt Katie and Uncle Cooper. Blaine and I will be her favorite Uncles, of course, but everybody will fight for her attention and you and Fred will have an endless row of babysitters."

"You make it sound so easy," Ally sighed.

"Everybody knows it's not easy," Blaine replied, "but it's a new life, it's a baby made from love no matter how unexpected this is."

"You guys are just the best," she said and dried her eyes once more. "Really the best.

"Unless you're not pregnant and we have scared the shit out of you for nothing," Kurt added dryly. "Then we're probably the worst."

"Well, considering that I'm about three months late I think …."

"Three months?" Kurt spit out. "Wow, you weren't exaggerating when you said you weren't keeping track, huh."

"Nope, that's another thing I suck at, celibacy and keeping track."

"Blaine and I could easily do the celibacy thing."

Blaine almost choked on his red wine.

"Well, at least for a couple of hours," Kurt added with a smirk.

 


	19. A Lawsuit And A Complaint

Outside of the rehab center solid nerves kicked in and twisted unpleasantly in Santana's stomach. Mercedes had dropped her off with a promise to return after two hours. She might as well have said forever as far as Santana was concerned. She had completely counted on Mercedes to be there too and didn't appreciate the girls statement that it would help Sam more if she went alone in the first place. A couple of ridiculous ice breakers popped into her head as if she was heading to some lame party full of strangers; stupid and so unlike her.

She stepped inside hesitantly, asked for Sam's room at the reception desk and was pointed in the right direction. "If he's not in his room he will be outside playing with the dog," the smiling woman behind the counter said.

Santana thanked her and looked around as she steered down the hallway. It was a surprisingly nice place; white walls with colorful paintings and big panorama windows. Not that she had imagined something unpleasant, but nobody checked into rehab without being in trouble and this place still had to be flooded with inner demons just trying to get attached again somehow.

The door to Sam's room was cracked open and muffled sobs was heard from inside. Santana cursed silently and had to brave up before she pushed the door open and got the first glimpse of Sam. He was standing bent over a table, shaking all over his body with tears streaming down his cheeks. His hands were clenched into tight fists, leaving white, blood drained knuckles on the top. It was a heartbreaking sight and Santana forgot all about her icebreakers as she dropped her bag on the floor and walked to him in a hurry. "Sam, what is wrong? What is happening?"

The dog, that had to be Jackpot, circled around him with a whimpering sound, trying desperately to get his friends attention, but Sam was out of reach.

Santana took his fisted hands and let her thumbs run over his knuckles as she talked to him in a soothing voice. His nails were digged so deep into his palms that streaks of blood showed underneath them. She desperately cupped his cheeks, trying to establish eye contact and even though their eyes eventually connected it was like he didn't really see her at all. Hoping desperately that somebody would pass the door and offer help, she decided to stay with him, too scared to let go. "Sam, listen to me, you have to snap out of this," she said firmly. "I don't know what is going on, but you're safe here and everything is going to be alright. You have to let go a bit, you're hurting yourself."

He gasped and shook his head with big determined moves; but at least he was listening.

"Look, you have to take care of your little dog, Jackpot, you're really scaring him like this and he needs you right now. Can you hear how sad he is?" she asked.

The mention of Jackpot seemed to make a difference and Sam blinked tears away as he narrowed in on her face for the first time. Then he got aware of Jackpot and through a long controlled exhale, sounding almost rehearsed, he finally opened his hands again. Without paying attention to the blood in his palms he bowed down and lifted Jackpot up off the floor. The dog went out of its mind with happiness and immediately licked Sam in the face, with its wagging tail peeking out underneath his arm. The reunion was heartfelt and some of the tension left Sam as he buried his face in brown, curly fur.

Do you want me to get a hold of someone?" Santana asked. "You might need something for your hands at least."

Sam swiped his tears away in the sleeve of his shirt before he fully understood what she was saying, then he looked at his palms and hissed in surprise and pain. "No, please don't tell," he burst out horrified. "I'll just be registered for self harm and I'll never hear the end of it. I swear to god they take things like that very seriously."

She frowned "Maybe you  _shouldn't_  hear the end of it."

"No, it's not like that, I just … I panicked, that's all. Please Santana."

The despair in his eyes crawled into her heart and stirred surprisingly. She sighed. "I can't promise you anything, but why don't you sit down, then we can talk a bit. I'm pretty sure your leg could use a bit of rest too and it will be easier for Jackpot to get to you, right?"

Sam wavered, then he felt the muscles in his good leg tremble and exhaustion forced him to drop down on the chair behind him. "I um ... "

Santana pulled off her jacket, found a bottle of water in her bag and grabbed a handful of paper towels from the bathroom. "We have to clean up those wounds no matter what," she said and prompted him to open his hands. "Now let me see."

Sam reached out his hands with a lost expression. It was gut wrenching to watch his haunted demeanor and Santana had to look down, more than happy to maintain focus on the deep marks spreading across his swollen palms. She carefully placed half of the towels underneath Sam's hands to soak up the water that she poured down in order to rinse and cool off the pain. "This is going to hurt when you use the crutches," she said as she gently pressed towels against the wounds until the bleeding had stopped.

"That's okay. It's not that I'm getting that much around anyway."

When she was done she cupped his big hands in hers and looked at him for real, searching for whatever version of Sam she could find in there. And she  _did_  see him, even though the image was somewhat blurred and different.

"Thank you for coming," he whispered.

"It's the least I can do," she answered before she let go of his hands again. "Would you care to tell me what happened? It looked like some sort of anxiety attack. I could hardly get in touch with you?"

Sam shook his head.

"You have to tell me something here. I take a huge risk by not reporting this to the staff and you have to convince me it should stay that way."

Sam still hesitated.

"Is it something about Joseph and his gang? Have they gotten to you again? Have they been here?"

"No," he whispered. "I haven't heard a word from any them."

Santana waited for more but it was very obvious that Sam struggled like crazy and had a hard time answering her questions. "You do realize that there is nothing you can tell me that will shock me or make me judge you, right? I've never been perfect, hell, I've never tried to be perfect, so just say it as it is. If this is not some kind of setback in your mental recovery, something must have happened. I was told you were doing great, but this is not great." She kept her stare at him, pressuring him lightly.

A full minute passed with internal fights raging through Sam, very visible in every facial expression, every twitch and every move. Then he broke completely down in front of her. "I think I'm going to jail," he huffed out through sobs so full of sorrow and despair that it cut through her heart like a knife.

"Oh Sam, why would you think that? You were the one getting a serious beat … unless … unless something else has happened, and then I need to know about it."

He reached for something in his back pocket and pushed a folded piece of paper across the table. She took it hesitantly and unfolded it slowly, suddenly scared to see what was inside. Her eyes scanned the page with a beating heart as Sam bowed his head in shame. It was a legal letter from some fancy law firm called Johnson and Stone, suing Sam for assault on a  _Brian Fay_. Apparently this Brian was having some severe medical issues after the assault and now he was asking for compensation or else Sam was ordered to meet up in court two weeks from now. The amount of money the lawyer claimed was sufficient in compensation, was ridiculously high. This had the potential to be a serious problem but determined to stay calm Santana simply just locked eyes with him. "So you … beat up a guy?"

Sam's nod was barely noticeable.

"People don't go to jail for that, Sam, unless it's really serious and weapons were involved."

"No, no weapons, it was a fight, which I started, until somebody stopped me."

Santana nodded and let the information sink. "Did you know the guy, this Brian Fay?"

Sam closed his eyes and let the tears stream through his eyelashes once more. "He was my boss."

Santana whistled impressed. "I'm sure he had it coming then. I mean, some bosses can be pricks. But I gather you didn't get to keep the job though."

Immune to her light approach he continued with self loathing in his voice. "I was so fucked up and out of control, but that's not an excuse. I'm better than that … I thought I was better than that. Now I don't know, all I see in the mirror is someone who beat up an innocent man … and then tell me what the difference between me and guys like Joseph really is. There's none!" His chest was heaving. "I'm a lost cause and I have been trying to hide that from Mercedes for so long ... because I didn't want her to see me for who I've become, what I've turned into. I wanted her to remember me as the one I once was."

"Now wait a minute," Santana objected and leaned forward. "Is that  _really_  how you see yourself?"

Sam's chin quivered. "How else should I see myself? There's nothing else left."

She reached out for him again because she couldn't help it. "Sam, there is so much more to you than a few stupid actions. And if you're willing to trust me and tell me everything, I'll show you what I see and I promise you it's not the same thing."

He didn't say anything at first, but his fingers held on to her as if he was afraid she would slip away from him. She soothed him down by stroking his hands repeatedly before she continued. "This will do you good Sam. I don't know if it will fix you completely, but keeping deep, dark, secrets from the ones you love is the most destructive thing you can ever do. I'll help you tell Mercedes if that's what you need to get through this but it's time to be open about everything. Are you up for that?"

He nodded without hesitation this time.

"So no more secrets, you tell me everything. Get it out so it can't haunt you anymore."

"I promise," he whispered.

"Do you need some help to get started?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Okay … well tell me how you got the job at the stripclub."

Sam exhaled shakily and let go of her hands to pay attention to Jackpot again. And with his fingers buried in fur and a satisfied dog in his lap words slowly were put into sentences; so uncertain at first but then building to something more solid.

"I don't even know how, I just … I passed the club one night … and I was broke, didn't have a place to stay … I just slept wherever I could."

"So you were homeless?"

"Sometimes, other times I had enough to pay rent for a small basement dump. My mom send me money occasionally and even though I had told her not to, she kept doing it .. enough to buy me food most of the time, and it was all I survived for when I didn't have a job here and there. So … I could either try to get a spot in the club and at least earn some money or I could keep being .. a complete failure, wandering around in LA like a … ghost … a nobody. So I went in there and got signed up for an audition; which I was told I should be happy to even get. They had so many guys waiting for a spot, but my experience seemed to matter … and I made sure to exaggerate of course."

"And you got the job."

"I thought I had it in the bag but they wanted me bigger, you know, more muscular and fit. So I waited for some more money from my mom, started working out again and went on this crazy diet, but … I needed things to happen fast." Sam trailed off and lost his focus again.

"You took something to help you on your way, right?" Santana asked, seeing where things were heading.

He just nodded.

"Steroids?"

"Yes."

"Did it work?"

"You bet, it was … like this miracle. I was growing so fast and really got a kick out of it. Finally I succeeded at something ... I just couldn't tell Mercedes about it. But I went back to a second audition and got a spot." Sam stopped again and made time to rub Jackpot behind his half ear. "But the competition was steep. Even with a spot I never knew how many nights I would get to work and with younger, more impressive guys, breathing down my neck non stop it stressed me out, completely. I just had to take what I was offered and considering that I could earn just as much on one night as I would get for an entire month in any random crappy job, I figured it was worth it all, you know. And it probably could have worked out, with just a couple of nights a month, except …"

"Except what?" Santana asked and leaned forward, prompting Sam to continue even though he was clearly struggling by now.

"Except that when I had the money I drank them up."

The statement stayed in Sam's chest like a concrete hand fisting his heart. "I had cut all connections to Mercedes at that time and I hadn't spoken to Puck or Artie for ages, even though especially Puck had tried to stay in touch. But … I just couldn't face them you know. I couldn't face their rock solid faith in me and my ability to get a decent job and get things started for me in LA. The thing is though, that I had miscalculated how hard it was to forget Mercedes." His eyes softened. "She was there all the time, underneath my skin, when I closed my eyes, in every breath and … in my sleep … just always there. It was killing me that I couldn't be with her, that I couldn't be the man she deserved. But when I drank ... I could live with it. That's what I told myself at least. Then I started to get these rages. I could snap within a second, over the stupidest things. So when I was sober I was hurting on the inside, when I was drunk I hurt other people."

"You do realize that drinking and doing steroids at the same time is toxic, that's where all the rage came from."

"I knew … I just couldn't stop."

"Did you get into fights?"

"A couple, but nothing too bad at first."

"Until Brian?"

Sam looked into the palm of his hands.

"What made you snap at Brian?" Santana asked gently.

"I finally got a night after two weeks with nothing, but because I was five minutes late he passed it over to another guy right in front of me."

Santana got it, she really did and with her own temperament working against her now and then why wouldn't she understand. But that was not the interesting part, something was nagging her about the story, or more about the way Sam had been treated. "Had something like that happened before? I mean a night being taken away from guys that were late?"

Sam shrugged. "If you were half an hour late, maybe. We were supposed to be there an hour before the show to prepare, but I could easily have done that. I don't know, I just think I had it coming."

"Had what coming, Sam? It doesn't sound fair to me at all."

"It wasn't but you're getting no where pointing that out in clubs like that."

Santana let it go for now. "Tell me about the assault."

"I don't remember that much, to be honest, just that I felt so humiliated and made fun of. They didn't know shit about how desperate I was or that it felt like a matter of life and death to me and then it was like this monster of rage that took over. I was so furious .. and you know, for a moment it felt great to release all the anger … it made me powerful, to know I could hurt people, I could make them feel my pain." His cheeks heated up by the next confession because that was the number one thing he felt most ashamed of, the thing that haunted him at night and still had a claw in his soul, but also the one thing that had to be named. "It felt good to hit him, Santana; finally he would listen and stop treating me like shit … and if the door men hadn't dragged me out of there I don't know if I would have stopped … until he wasn't moving anymore." the last part was nothing but a whisper in all it's awfulness.

Santana moved her chair around the table to be right next to him and then she dragged him into a tight comforting hug, hurting for him in a way she hadn't anticipated. "Sam, that was the drugs talking to you like that and making you feeling those things; it was not the essence of you or who you are. Steroids fuck people up just like any other drug." He cried into her shoulder for awhile and she just let him as she tried to connect the dots and put a finger on the things that still didn't add up.

"God, I'm so embarrassed that you're seeing me like this," he said and moved away again.

"Don't be," she simply stated. "Your tears stay between you and me, but we have to get to the bottom of all this."

He nodded, dried his tears away and headed for the sink where he splashed some cold water on his cried-out, swollen face. Then he returned and gave her a cue to continue.

"So when did this night happen?"

Sam closed his eyes to remember. "About three months ago I think."

She frowned. "Then why haven't you been sued before?" That's a very long time to wait for a guy with medical issues, don't you think?"

"I don't know. I was told that I had crashed the counter and that there would be repairs for $10,000."

"$10,000, huh?" Santana repeated as the puzzle suddenly fit perfectly. "Those $10,000 you got from Joseph, right?"

"Yes," Sam whispered. "I kept hanging out in front of the club, and that's where Joseph contacted me and we made a deal. I guess I hoped to be forgiven and have my slot back as soon as I had paid for the repairs."

"Who did you give the money to?"

"Actually, one of Joseph's guys took care of that."

"Did you ever see the money?"

"No, but Brian came out and told me he was covered. I never got a second change in the club though and I don't think Brian ever intended to give me that in the first place. Which meant I lost my chance of making money enough to pay Joseph back."

"You were framed, Sam, don't you see that? I'm not sure there were repairs for $10,000 I mean the door men couldn't have taken long to get to you. And as long as you haven't been presented for the damage or a receipt for the repairs it's impossible to know for sure. I bet Brian doesn't have any medical issues either, it's all a way to wheel you right back in. They expect some kind of deal before any trial because their case is bullshit."

"So what should I do?"

"I don't know but I bet Quinn knows."

"You think she could help?"

"I know she can, the question is if you're willing to deal with this for real and tell both her and Mercedes what is going on."

Sam exhaled and for the first time since Santana stepped inside his room a touch of relief came from his blue eyes. "I'm willing to do anything if all this hurt inside can go away."

"It can," Santana said with a smile. "I just know it can."

* * *

The timing sucked!

Kurt had promised Blaine to cook dinner tonight and with a short day at the theater he even had plenty of time to buy groceries on his way home, except now Stevenson had turned "plenty of time" into "not that much time". It was an impromptu meeting, called by Stevenson, and under normal circumstances Kurt would have tried to negotiate his way out of it or ask for a reschedule, but the seriousness in Stevenson's raspy voice had stopped him.

After an apologizing phone call to Blaine, who immediately offered to get the groceries instead, he passed the secretary outside Stevenson's office with a polite smile before he knocked on the door.

Two things set all the alarm clocks off in Kurt's chest. First of all the meeting apparently included Dubrowski, who was already there with his back turned to Kurt, and second of all, the most unpleasant, undefined tension was sucking all air out of the room, tangible from the moment he stepped inside.

"Kurt," thanks for coming." Stevenson shot him a tired smile and pointed to a chair next to Dubrowski. "And if you would be kind to close the door, I'd appreciate it."

Kurt grabbed the handle, feeling the cold steel in his hand as he closed the door quietly and walked to the waiting chair with wobbly legs. His mind was racing. What had been said between the two men before he had arrived and what was this about? Had Dubrowski finally pulled a lie smart enough to get Kurt excluded from the play, and if that was the case, what would it mean for the future of Cordelia?"

With Kurt seated at the very edge of the chair, glancing nervously at Dubrowski, Stevenson put his fingertips together and pondered. "As I've just told Dubrowski I've received a complaint yesterday; a complaint serious enough to set up this meeting, claiming that the overall atmosphere at the theater is toxic."

"I didn't complain," Kurt burst out, mainly to set things straight in front of Dubrowski.

Stevenson pulled a half hearted lift of the corner of his mouth. "We know, Kurt. The complaint wasn't delivered anonymously. Vladimir came to my office yesterday with a lot on his mind."

"Mira?" Kurt repeated in disbelief. Dubrowski shifted uncomfortably in his seat but he still hadn't uttered a single word. Kurt would have thought that accusations about pulling the strings would have been fired his way by now. "What did he complain about?"

Stevenson pulled out a sheet of paper and passed it over to Kurt. "This is what Vladimir wanted to put officially in the complaint, there were more, but as you can probably guess he's put on a hard spot with this."

Kurt scanned the paper with wandering eyes and a dry mouth. The core of each point was how poorly Dubrowski had treated Kurt throughout the first three weeks of rehearsal. Some of it pointed to the overall atmosphere at the theater while other things were specific episodes describing the harassment Kurt had been put through. Vladimir had noticed much more than Kurt had anticipated and even though everything was pretty accurate it sounded so much worse put down on paper, staring him right in the face. "I'm not sure what you need of me here," Kurt said and noticed a weird sadness sneaking up on him. If this complaint had been filed a week ago it would have made sense. But why now; just as he had teamed up with Vladimir? Hadn't they just discovered that together they were strong? Together meant that Dubrowski couldn't pull any more crap.

Stevenson leaned forward. "I need your statement, Kurt. I need to know if this is true. Dubrowski here seems to believe it's exaggerated, even though he admits that you guys haven't had the best who wouldn't believe that in his situation, considering that he will be fired if this is what has been happening in my theater. Because I'm not standing for that kind of behavior."

Kurt stared with his mouth open and his heart racing. Right in this moment he actually disliked Stevenson for putting this kind of pressure on him, right in front of Dubrowski. Of course this was a golden opportunity, but opening night was three weeks away and the last two days had not been bad. Another thing interfered in the overall situation, something that was hard to ignore. Dubrowski had just been punched in the gut. The one person that was closest to his heart had turned on him in the most unexpected way, delivering that final blow that could finish him off for good in New York.

The tension rose and grew from the walls surrounding them until it was too hard to even breathe. Kurt's brain searched for the right thing to do, for this single piece of wisdom that could make everything alright again as he read the paper over and over. Then his head jerked up and he was finally able to meet Stevenson's anticipating gace.

"I um … I think it's only fair if Dubrowski and I can have a moment in private, sir, before I say anything about the complaint."

Dubrowski turned his head slowly and looked Kurt's way without really making eye contact. Defeat seeping through his entire being. "Kurt .. you don't have to …"

Kurt stopped him with a firm grip on his arm. "I'm sure this can be arranged, right?" he asked, not surprised to see Stevenson hesitate for a split second before he made a gesture with his hands.

"You're right. I guess it's only fair." Stevenson rose from his chair and snatched a pack of cigarettes from his desk drawer. "You know I need to run some errands, you can have my office for the next half an hour. Will that work for you?"

Dubrowski twitched uncomfortably but Kurt accepted the offer on the spot and watched the CEO walk out the door. It was time to turn the situation around and if he played it right, this could be a win-win for all of them.

 


	20. A Second Chance

The awkwardness of being alone in the room hit as soon as Stevenson had left. And even though Kurt felt responsible for taking the first step, he wasn't even sure what he wanted to accomplish.

Dubrowski rose from his chair and walked to the big panorama windows, framing a fraction of New Yorks skyline. He seemed lost in his own thoughts until he stated something surprisingly. "Doesn't it feel good to have the upper hand," he asked. "You can finally get rid of me and continue with your life and your career, making Cordelia everything you've ever dreamt it would be."

Kurt looked at the tall, lean man, who so desperately tried to keep his head high, guarding himself like an impenetrable fortress. But little things gave him away; his superficial breathing, his hands so deeply pocketed and his voice, too steady to be natural, fighting back emotions. "The thing is," Kurt replied, "I never wanted to get rid of you. It was always the other way around."

Dubrowski turned towards him. "Are you saying that you've never, not even in a weak moment, wished someone else was directing the play? Come on; nobody is that noble or controlled! Not even the talented Kurt Hummel. Besides, both you and I know that Vladimir's complaint is as accurate as it gets, so I'm not even sure why we are here."

If Kurt had searched for the answer before, it at least seemed clear this very moment. "We are here ... because I've learned two things about you. Besides having only one weak spot, which is Mira, you actually like "Cordelia". Your take on the love story between Coalan and Cordelia is very layered. Not just who they were before they met each other, but you recognize the different motivations that drives the transition they both end up going through. You're a very gifted director ... who ... unfortunately also happens to be one of the worst communicators I've ever met." The last statement was almost huffed out in disbelief.

Dubrowski pursed his lips. "So you compliment me and insult me in one and the same sentence. How skillful of you." He paused. "I've never tried to be likeable, it's not my thing and it never will be. People have to take me for who I am or not take me at aIl." He shrugged indifferently.

"And when they are not taking you at all, where does that leave you?" Kurt asked.

"With a new set of actors who will do as I say."

"No," Kurt objected firmly. "It leaves you alone and bitter, hurting everybody around you. You may think you're almighty in your own ways and that nobody can teach you anything. The truth is, however, that it deprives you of extraordinary things. I'm not trying to insult you. I'm trying to make this work."

"Make what work, Kurt?" Dubrowski spat out. "Just because you think you're on a mission to redeem yourself and be a good Samaritan doesn't mean you're free to say whatever you want to me. I'm not going to crawl for you. I'm not that desperate and I refuse to be humiliated."

Dubrowski had stepped closer in an attempt to hover over Kurt. But Kurt calmly locked eyes with him. "Funny how a man, who has made it his finest job to humiliate others, is scared to death of the humiliation itself. I'm willing to give you a second chance … don't you get that? I can get you off the hook with Stevenson and give you  _one_  last shot at keeping your job. And yet, all you care about is how it will make you  _look_? I'm not doing this to humiliate you, but changes need to happen. It's as simple as that."

"That's blackmail!" Dubrowski said through gritted teeth.

"No it's not. It's an opportunity."

"And if I refuse to change things?"

"Then Stevenson will learn the truth. I'm not going soft on you any day soon, so count that out."

Dubrowski backed away. "I don't need this. I'll call Stevenson myself and tell him I quit." He reached for his phone with an annoyed head shake and lips reduced to a fine line.

"And do what?" Kurt asked daringly. "Go where?"

Dubrowski's finger hovered over the illuminated screen in his hand. "Get another job," he hissed.

"You're not getting another job in the theater world in New York. You know that as well as I do. Stevenson is ridiculously connected and he'll make sure that every single door is slammed in your face. You'll be lucky to get hired at some local amatur theater across the country. Which would mean leaving Vladimir and his mom behind. If that's what you want, fine with me. But it seems to be a very high price to pay for not wanting to compromise on  _any_  terms and claiming it's because people just have to take you for who you are."

Dubrowski wavered, uncertain of what to do next. For the first time it was a fair head to head fight between them. Not fair in the sense that Kurt obviously had the upper hand, but fair because Dubrowski couldn't hide behind the power he'd had before.

"We'll work it out as some sort of contract between us," Kurt continued carefully. "Not a legal one of course, more like a gentleman's agreement. I expect something from you and you can expect something from me in return. You're always talking about respect; this is our chance to work this out in mutual respect for each other."

"And if I'm not agreeing?"

"Then we have to rephrase things until you  _can_  agree. But you have to compromise. I'm not letting go and you can't bully me out of this."

Dubrowski exhaled in reluctant surrender, cornered in a way he wasn't used to. "What would you put in this gentleman's agreement?" he asked after a while.

"I haven't thought about that yet," Kurt answered. "But I suggest that we sit down and discuss the terms in a civilized manner." He nodded towards Stevenson's conference table next to them.

Dubrowski still hesitated and monitored Kurt's expression, still looking for a way out. But as he didn't seem to find any, he finally nodded and followed Kurt to the table with a guarded look. Kurt stayed calm, willing himself to radiate confidence in every move; but truth be told, he was shaking inside. This was a breakthrough, bigger than he had expected, and the next step was crucial if he was to succeed. He hurriedly turned the papers with the complaint around and offered Dubrowski a blank back side, almost like a symbolic gesture. Then he grabbed two pencils, and pushed one of them across the table as his brain was reduced to spinning wheels and strategy. Not that he wanted to trick Dubrowski. He honestly wanted to meet him halfway, but he had to make sure that the director would cooperate. And it was clearer than daylight that he would only do so if he was left with with no other option.

"I suggest we make it simple," Kurt stated. "We'll have three paragraphs each, describing what we expect of each other. None of us can push a paragraph through, but we have to work something out together. And since I'm the one starting all this I'll start with my first paragraph.

Dubrowski could best be described as a rebellious student when he rolled his eyes and wrote the number 1 on his paper. Kurt hid a smile and nodded approvingly. "I … would like you to talk nicer to everyone at the theater," he then said.

"Is that your first paragraph?" Dubrowski asked in disbelief, "I'm not talking  _nice_  enough? What do you want me to do? Not have an opinion? This is ridiculous!"

"Sure, you can have an opinion. But you have to express it in a way that doesn't leave people disheartened for the rest of the day."

Dubrowski leaned closer. "You know what the real problem is? Americans are so sensitive. They can't handle the truth because they're all convinced that they are born to something greater and that they will be rich and famous if they just really  _believe_  in it."

Kurt didn't even blink. "You don't get to pull a cultural card here, because that's not the issue at all. For the last three weeks I have never once heard something positive come out of your mouth. You yell, you scold, you act all crazy when people don't get what you mean and it creates a toxic environment around everything you touch. Your disrespect for the cast and crew, who put a lot of work into the production, is so unfair and uncalled for that it cries to heaven. It's not an unreasonable request I'm presenting and I believe you're aware of that."

Dubrowski leaned back in his chair again. "And what if I fail, what if I "accidentally" say something that's not nice? Are you then going to hover over me with your little black book, taking notes and wondering if it's time to call Stevenson?"

Kurt snapped for the first time. "God, why do you have to twist everything around? I ask you to make an effort, that's all. I ask you to try; to do your best. And along the way I hope you somehow realize how much you hurt people with your words. They are not just words, they create doubt and an uncertainty that stays long after you have moved on to something else."

Dubrowski blinked at the accusations and his chest was heaving as he got up from the chair. Kurt was positive this was it until the director surprised him once more. "I'm not saying this cannot be your first paragraph. I just need a minute," he said and walked out the door.

Kurt ran his fingers through his hair as a deep sigh left his body. This was beyond exhausting and he didn't even know why he cared so much. He peeked out to the secretary. "I know I'm only a guest here and that it's a privilege to borrow Stevenson's office, but do you think we could get some coffee?"

She smiled at him. "Sure thing, honey. Oh, and I promised to call the boss when the two of you were done. So if you could give me a heads up."

"I thought he was running some errands."

She shook her head. "He's downstairs, waiting to hear news from you guys."

Kurt slouched. "Well that's stupid, we shouldn't occupy his office like that."

"He'll be fine," she assured and went to the coffee room at the back. He followed her to see if he could help out somehow. "I can't wait to see your play by the way," she said and opened different cabinets to get mugs, sugar and a couple of wrapped cookies.

"Do you always watch the plays," he asked curiously.

"Only if they're any good." She winked. "Stevenson is very impressed with you. Play your cards right and you'll have all the connections you're going to need in the Broadway world."

Kurt leaned up against the door frame. "Why isn't he with one of the bigger theaters," he asked. "He sure has the reputation for it."

"He is much more a behind-the-scene kind of man and it's  _because_  he doesn't run one of the big theaters that people listen to him." She poured up the fresh brewed coffee and handed him the tray. "Here you go. And let me know if you need anything else."

Kurt thanked her and balanced the loaded tray back to Stevenson's office. Dubrowski had returned unnoticed and was now waiting for him by the table. On the paper in front of him Kurt's first paragraph was now written down. Kurt glanced at him. He seemed calmer and accepted the coffee without a word.

"Now it's your turn," Kurt said and put the number 1 on his own paper before he looked expectantly at the director.

"I'd … like you to say positive things about me to the cast and crew - or well at least not negative things. I'm completely aware of your power around them. They listen to you, and you can literally be my downfall, or my success."

Kurt bit his lip. The request seemed sincere and something about it hit the core of him. This was Dubrowski in a very rare unguarded moment and Kurt's response would decide every step they'd take from here. He went for a light answer. "I  _could_  claim that I've never said anything bad about you, but I'm a terrible liar and you'd look right through me. I'm taking responsibility for that one and it's only a fair paragraph."

Dubrowski relaxed as Kurt scribbled a phrasing down and wrote the number 2 on his sheet of paper, waiting for the next paragraph.

"Okay, I um …," Kurt pondered, wanting to get it right. "Yes, I would like you to give a compliment before you give criticism when you handle the cast."

Dubrowski dropped his head. "You have  _got_  to be kidding me."

"But it makes sense," Kurt explained, unaffected by the man's behavior. "Everybody needs encouragement. It can't all be about the things they do wrong."

"So you want me to say;  _Hey, you have nice shoes, but your acting sucks!_ That's ridiculous."

A laugh escaped Kurt.

"What?" Dubrowski asked irritated.

"That was actually funny," Kurt said with a smirk. "Who would have thought you could be funny."

The features around Dubrowski's eyes softened, not much, but enough. "Well, I wasn't trying to be funny and I still think it's ridiculous," he mumbled.

"I'll give an example then. Let's take Michelle. We both know that the livelier parts works for her, but that she is struggling with the emotional stuff, right?"

"I'd call that an understatement."

"If you give her credit for the things that works, she will be encouraged and I promise you she will work her ass off to get you what you want on the things that don't work. It's quite simple and I'm sure you know this. But for some reason you just refuse to go there. At the moment Michelle is convinced that she sucks all the way and that's not true. She has given you some amazing moments, but it's getting harder and harder for her because you are removing all her confidence."

"But even the things that work for her, aren't perfect. I know she can do more. And if I say everything is great she'll believe she doesn't have to work on things any more."

"No, it's a work in progress, every actor and every singer knows that … and Michelle knows that."

"Then tell me this; if she knows that why isn't she trying harder? Every day it's the same. She is not bringing anything new to the table."

"She doesn't know what you want from her. You only tell her that she's wrong and that you want something else. She needs a frame, a reference."

Dubrowski sighed and wrote down the paragraph. His next move came without hesitation. "I would like this Gentleman's Agreement and Vladimir's complaint to stay between the two of us. It cannot get around at the theater or be gossiped about."

"I agree," Kurt answered and wrote it down right away. "Can I talk to Blaine about it?"

Dubrowski looked down at his hands. "Yes, of course."

"Thank you."

Kurt made time to drink his coffee before he decided his last paragraph. He had been given a lot already and wanted this last request to be easy. "My third paragraph will be about socializing," he said. "I'd like you to come to one of the social events with the cast and crew. Sometimes we grab a beer after work or meet up at a cafe."

"I can't do that," Dubrowski moaned.

"Why?"

"Just think about it … it will be all awkward and weird.  _They_  don't want me to be there and _I_ don't want to be there. I'm their director, not their friend."

"The whole point exactly. They need to see the Dubrowski that relaxes, to see that you are more than this person who bosses them around during the day. I can talk nice about you all I want but it will never mean as much as you going to an impromptu event."

Dubrowski went silent.

"It's only one event. You can stay for an hour and if you still hate it you're free to go," Kurt offered.

Dubrowski shook his head but wrote the paragraph down anyway:  _One hour of socialization._

"One more to go," Kurt said satisfied. "We're nearly there. What should I write?"

Dubrowski cleared his throat, struggling with something on his mind. "I'd like you to help me with Vladimir."

"Help you how?"

"He listens to you and for some reason he's ready to quit the idea of NYADA and Broadway all together."

"I'm not going to try to persuade him … if that's what you're asking," Kurt said carefully. He was all about helping but he felt obligated to be an advocate for Vladimir on this very specific subject. "I have offered my help if he wanted to apply to NYADA again.."

"What kind of help?"

"Tutoring."

"You'd do that?"

"Yes, if he want's me to. But honestly, talent won't cut it if the dream doesn't make his blood run faster. You can't force him and if you try, it will destroy your relationship with him."

Dubrowski leaned forward and for the first time a sudden urge seeped through his expression. "I just … want him to talk to me again, that's really all. We had a … big fallout yesterday and I guess that's what pushed him to do this."

"Then I'll be happy to help," Kurt promised. "Is that what you want in the agreement?"

"Definitely."

Kurt finished his paper; proud that they'd managed to see it through. They both put down their pens and looked at each other.

"So what will happen Monday?" Dubrowski asked.

"We'll go to the theater, act like it's another ordinary day, see the Gentleman's Agreement through and work our asses off to make Cordelia spectacular for opening night."

"And you're not going to interrupt me in the middle of everything and tell me I'm doing it all wrong?"

Kurt let a smile slip through. "God, no. I don't have the authority to do that. You're the director and you'll continue to be that. I'm not trying to be co-director here. It's not really my dream."

Dubrowski lowered his shoulders. "Can I ask you a … personal question?" It was the first initiative from him through their meeting. Kurt looked at him curiously and gestured the permission. "Did you  _really_ have a friend in LA that was hospitalized?"

"Yeah, I mean he's not in the hospital anymore. He's in a rehab center now, hopefully ready to go home any time soon."

"I see."

"Wait … you thought that was a lie? That there was no friend?" Kurt asked, utterly surprised.

The man shrugged. "It just, with all do respect, sounded a bit too convenient when you called me the first time to ask for time off. Especially since you obviously  _would_  have a head start on the lines. I just assumed you weren't man enough to give me the right reason."

Kurt looked at him flabbergasted. "Wow, that explains a lot I guess. Um ... no, Sam is real. He is one of Blaine's closest friends and he got beat up pretty badly the day before rehearsal started."

"Is he alright?"

"There seems to be an emotional or mental relapse at the moment, but he  _will_  be alright, eventually."

"I'm sorry for assuming."

"Well I'm just glad we are getting things straight here."

Things got quiet between them again. They were done with the agreement but Kurt knew one more thing had to be dealt with. And maybe it was just in his imagination, but it seemed like Dubrowski was aware of that, too. "Can I ask  _you_  a question?" Kurt finally said.

"Yes." Dubrowski looked down, but he was clearly listening.

"Were you the one calling Blaine that night? And the one taking the picture of me and my ex?"

A haunted expression showed briefly in the stoic face until it was controlled again. "Yes, that was me and it was not my proudest moment by far. I'm genuinely sorry for causing that pain, Kurt. It was a stupid idea that should have stayed exactly that; something to be laughed at and then filed as undignified. But unfortunately I acted on it. I wasn't stalking you and it was not something I had planned."

Kurt tensed up. They had known it was Dubrowski ever since Blaine recognized his voice, but it was somewhat else to actually hear him admit it. It was harder than Kurt had expected. "What happened?"

Dubrowski rubbed his forehead. "It was a day where you seemed pretty eager to leave for lunch and I got curious. I'll admit that I had tried to find something on you for quite some time at that point, but I'd never counted on being lucky that day. You were first meeting up with a very beautiful woman. You seemed close to her, but she was too young to be your mother. I took a couple of pictures of the two of you, I have deleted them again though. And then you met this guy and I kept taking pictures while you were talking. I didn't have to google much to find your connection to him and the rest is history; pathetic, but the truth never the less."

Kurt exhaled slowly through pursed lips. "I've gotta be honest with you here. To me that was such a dirty trick that I didn't even suspect you until Blaine recognized your voice. And I find it  _so_  hard to look past a behavior like that."

"And yet, here you are, offering me a second chance. Do you see why it's so difficult for me to believe that you don't have a hidden agenda?" Dubrowski asked quietly.

"I guess."

"Kurt ... I hope that you one day will be able to forgive me for what I did, and that Blaine will, too. And I'll understand if it's too soon. But I  _am_ truly sorry. I didn't intended it to be so ugly."

"I'll forgive you," Kurt said after awhile. "I don't understand how you could do it, but I  _do_  appreciate the apology. Blaine is a different matter though. He will definitely need some time. He went through hell for that one."

"I can only imagine. He seems to be really good guy."

"He is. That's why I can get a bit protective about him. I'm sure you understand that."

* * *

"Honey, I'm hooome," Kurt bellowed from the hallway with a sing-sing voice. Blaine snorted as he stirred the pot on the stove. It was a typical Kurt thing to do when he wanted to empathize that they were getting very couple-ish.

"Well dinner's almost ready," Blaine chirped back the same way. He was looking forward to some much appreciated time this weekend with the gorgeous guy in the hallway.

Kurt tackled him from behind and laughed into his chin. "We will be insufferable when we grow older."

"Cute insufferable."

"Absolutely." He nuzzled Blaine's warm neck. "You should have waited for me then, I would have cooked just like I promised."

"It's okay. I had the time." Blaine nibbled a spoonful of sauce with Kurt's arms still wrapped around him. "Hm ... it's missing something," he mumbled. "Here, give it a try." He got a spoon ready for Kurt but was surprised by a deep kiss instead . A satisfied hum slipped through as he closed his eyes, dropped the spoon and snuck his arms around Kurt's waist.

When they broke the kiss again, Kurt smirked. "I think it tasted perfectly."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Now aren't you perky today. I assume it has something to do with this mysterious text I got from you earlier:  _Development around Dubrowski._ That pulled some attention."

"First of all I'm happy to be home with you and second of all, yes, it has been a very … interesting … and different day."

"Just tell me he got fired and will be replaced by Michael, please. That would make my day completely."

Kurt bit his lips. Then he reached out for a couple of glasses and poured wine up for both of them. "That was  _one_  scenario I guess," he said. "And it  _could_ have been the outcome."

Blaine frowned as he took the glass Kurt offered him. "Could have been? Then why wasn't it? I don't really see Stevenson chicken out of an opportunity like that."

Kurt jumped up to sit in the corner of the counter. "Stevenson didn't chicken out. He thought it was a done deal, but I, on the other hand, got second thoughts."

Blaine was left utterly confused. "Second thoughts about Dubrowski being a prick? You're losing me here."

Kurt sighed. "I was called to the meeting together with Dubrowski. It turned out Vladimir had filed a complaint against his uncle, revealing a lot of the things going on at the theater."

Blaine took a big gulp of wine. "Wow, go on."

"I was there to either confirm that the complaint was accurate or sort out any misunderstandings."

"Clear case then."

"No, not really, I don't know … it all of a sudden felt weird and pushed through. Stevenson wanted to make a cut immediately, even with Dubrowski sitting right next to me. And Dubrowski had just been told that the one person he cares most about in entire world had stabbed him in the back. I couldn't do it, Blaine, not without talking to the guy at least."

Blaine was getting impatient. "I get that it must have been a shock to Dubrowski, but honestly, Kurt, someone had to give him a wake-up call. And in my opinion Vladimir would be the only one he'd ever listen to."

"It was a wake-up call alright, but I couldn't do it. You know, despite everything he had done to us, he still deserved to be heard." Kurt was begging for an open mind, clearly, but hurt and anger got stuck in Blaine's chest as he realized the  _development_  wasn't the one he had been hoping for.

"We talked for quite some time," Kurt continued carefully, "and we made a gentleman's agreement between the two of us, to make sure things would change in the future and to secure a more positive environment around the last weeks of rehearsal."

Blaine raised his voice. "A gentleman's agreement, Kurt, really? And since when do you think a guy like Dubrowski would respect that. He is manipulating you, stalling time, working out new schemes. I admire that you are willing to give him a chance, but he's not going to change. And whatever he has told you or promised you it will not stand. You will be left destroyed; and I'm not taking that! I honestly cannot believe that you let him off the hook."

One word took the next and a knot of anger and resentment nagged it's way out and was phrased. Blaine knew he was upsetting Kurt, but he couldn't stop. "It feels like you have forgiven him for what he put me through, on my behalf, and I despise him." He turned to the stove and stirred the pot with annoyed movements.

Kurt jumped down from the counter and reached over to turn off the stove, before he removed the pot from the heat.

"What are you doing?" Blaine bickered, before he was dragged in for a hug.

"I need you to understand this, because it's important to me," Kurt begged. "So please, please hear me out."

Blaine sighed and leaned into the hug, trying to change his mindset enough to at least listen.

Kurt let go again. "You know when Sam crashed and burned there was this amazing safety net around him that stepped into function only hours after we received the news. Old friends that dropped everything in their hands to be there for him and to catch him in the fall. Sam is very privileged that way and so are you and I. Dubrowski has … no one. He will not be caught; not even by Vladimir."

"You cannot compare Dubrowski to Sam, you just can't. Dubrowski brought this on himself."

"But how do we know that, exactly? I mean, why did we give Sam a second chance?"

"Because he's a good guy, we knew he was better than a few mistakes."

"I agree. We know Sam, we know what's in his past, we know his motivations and we have a pretty good idea about why he slipped and fell. I just … this afternoon it occurred to me that Dubrowski may have his reasons to be so bitter and vindictive. Maybe he has never been caught, you know."

"But he fucking hurt me so bad, Kurt. And you don't know what it's like to hear the stories about how he has been bullying you and humiliating you without any consequences. It's like you haven't been standing up for yourself this time and it's so unlike you. The fate of Cordelia was like a gun he held to your head and then he could get away with everything. I hear what you're saying, I really do, but everything inside of me says;  _run, get away from him, protect Kurt from him._  It's all I hear in my head when we talk about him."

Kurt's soft, warm hands cupped his cheeks and dried away the treaturous tears that had ambushed him. "Oh my sweet, sweet, lover. I didn't know you felt that way. I'm so sorry. I can't undo the agreement, but I can promise you that the moment he crosses the line he's gone. And I will never look back."

A wave of gratitude washed over Blaine and he let their foreheads connect as all the worry and the anger withdrew and left everything so much calmer inside. His love for Kurt was stronger than any pressure from the outside and in his life this force of nature had to be the true core of him, the one thing he could rely on no matter what.

Kurt kissed him again; this time soft and giving. "I do recognize your pain and in everything I do, nothing is more important to me than how you feel. I want us to be happy and free. Cordelia is a lot of things to us, but it's not who we really are and it's not what counts by the end of the day. What really counts is that you love me and that I can come home to you every single night. And it matters that you have my back."

"Make love to me," Blaine whispered.

"Always, Blaine, always."


	21. Settlement

When Kurt showed up at the theater Monday morning he was determined not to expect too much. Better to aim low and be pleased than push too hard and be forced to deal with Stevenson. He knew Blaine would hold him to his promise and it was only fair. But he still hoped and he still counted on Dubrowski's own realization more than anything.

But it turned out to be another Dubrowski he had to deal with first when he stumbled into a pale, tired Vladimir in the hallway. "Kurt, I did a terrible, terrible thing and I don't know how to fix it. It felt so right in the moment, but … I swear to God it was not what I wanted. Not like that." Vladimir acted frantic and desperate. "I was so scared that my Uncle would get fired, but now that he's obviously not I'm … both relieved and so afraid that he'll never forgive me. He may be a pain in the ass but he's still my Uncle and he is all I've got."

Kurt pulled him gently aside. "Slow down, Mira. What are you even talking about?"

Vladimir took a deep breath. "Kurt I ... I filed a complaint ... an official complaint against him. It could hurt him badly and I shouldn't have done it. I was just so mad at him."

Kurt's eyes got warm with compassion. He'd be a jerk not to try to help this family. They were all bleeding severely on the inside. "Look, whatever has happened I'm sure your Uncle has sorted things out with Stevenson. It's tricky to replace a director this late in rehearsal and as you said, he's here, so I'm sure everything is okay."

"I don't even know what to tell him or how to apologize. How can he not hate me right now?"

"I don't know your Uncle very well," Kurt said carefully, "but I can tell that he thinks the world of you. You should just go talk to him."

Vladimir shook his head with determination. "It's not that easy, Kurt; trust me!"

"He might surprise you, that's all I'm saying."

Vladimir's sad eyes didn't change by the encouragement but he tried to man up as Kurt prompted him to tag along. Morning briefing was only two minutes away and he knew they both wanted to be on time. It wasn't until they faced an empty teater hall that they noticed everybody was filing into the conference room instead of the stage area. Kurt picked up pace and got a hold of Charlene. "What's up? Dub is here, right?"

"Dub?" she repeated with an arched eyebrow. "Well, I guess that's better than, Snopski. He wants us all in the conference room and I have a bad feeling about it. Something must be going on, right? Maybe we'll all get fired."

Kurt ignored the drama in her voice. "Let's see what happens before we jump to any conclusions." He shot her a quick smile as they entered the crowded room. Dubrowski was already there, looking rather nervous as he occupied himself with a tablet in his hand, checking the time every five seconds. Kurt immediately registered the shift in the atmosphere caused by the change of location. Instead of Dubrowski hovering over them on the big stage, he had put himself closer to them, physically. Kurt could be wrong, of course, but for some reason it gave him hope.

As usual all conversation stopped the second Dubrowski stepped forward and tension grew like dew on the walls in a damped room. Experience had taught them well. Cells were muted, coffee cups held tight and and even the smallest cough strangled throat deep. No one wanted to pull any kind of attention to themselves.

"Good morning, everyone," Dubrowski started. "I hope you've all had a nice weekend and that you're ready to … give it your all in this upcoming week. I don't have to tell you that we have a lot to do. I um … think you've heard that plenty of times. But what I _have_ missed to say up until now is … that so far … you have been working very hard. And I want to thank you for that. I believe … we will make things come through."

Every single person in the room stared confused at the tall, stoic, Russian guy; a man they only knew as a bully with a condescending attitude. But Kurt could have jumped for joy if he had been allowed to. A few side eyed each other nervously, while others shifted uncomfortably in their seats or on the floor. Dubrowski's eyes lingered for a second on Kurt and Vladimir and Kurt couldn't hold back an encouraging smile. It seemed to help the director forward.

"The costume department will be on fire today and fittings will have #1 priority," he continued. "The orchestra is right now settling in the theater hall and will be ready to start rehearsals with the singers in half an hour. Wednesday the dancers will be added on the stage and from next week we rehearse with the orchestra for the bigger parts." He turned to Charlene, looking like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. "Is that okay with you, Charlene?" he asked.

The question completely threw the blond dancer over the edge. "Um … I'm not sure what you mean?" she burst out confused.

"Will it be alright with your schedule?" Dubrowski clarified.

"Oh .. yes, that will work … just fine," she stuttered and nodded frantically.

Dubrowski continued with a smile. "As for the crew I would like lights and sound to run the first tests this afternoon. Can you get ready for that?" Dubrowski stared at Jason over the rim of his glasses.

Jason cleared his throat in a hurry. "Um ...two of our big spots have been down," he answered, uncertain of his options, "but we'll do what we can. We can at least run some of the gear."

The director frowned, causing a collective back held breath around the room. "No ... I think we'll wait until you have everything running. How long do you need for the big spots?" he asked without a trace of impatience.

"I can have them ready by Wednesday," Jason said eagerly.

Dubrowski nodded satisfied and side eyed Charlene, who was already correcting the schedule on her tablet. "Great. Wednesday it is," he said.

Murmurs now spread like fire as tension grew, begging to be released somehow. Dubrowski managed to ignore what was happening around him and continued. He connected the dots and cleared everything with Charlene as he went along. A few times he seemed lost or just about to lose his temper, but bigger disasters were avoided.

How did he do that? Kurt thought to himself. How did the guy manage to flip like a coin over a weekend? There could be a catch somewhere, but Kurt hoped with his whole being that there wouldn't be. He was so invested by now that it would break his heart to see it fall apart. Twenty agonizing minutes later morning briefing was over without the usual yelling and frustration.

As everybody filed out of the conference room again Charlene grabbed Kurt's hand and dragged him along without a word.

"What the fuck just happened in there?" Victor suddenly whispered from behind them, way too close for Kurt's liking. Kurt stepped aside to put enough distance between them.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he answered flatly.

"And you had nothing to do with that?" Victor teased.

God, Kurt hated the guy! Everything inside of him squirmed by the mere sound of his sleazy voice. "How would I have any say in that?"

"I don't know. Kurt Hummel works in mysterious ways. Even _I_ know that." Victor bit his bottom lip. "See ya, handsome."

"Help me not to kill that guy one of these days," Kurt complained through gritted teeth.

"Enough about Vic," Charlene said and prompted him to move on. "You and I need to talk." She kept them connected until they could step into the deserted wardrobe. "Vic is a douche but I'll have to repeat what he just said; What the fuck just happened in there? Did someone abduct the real Dubrowski and replace him with his much kinder twin brother? Because I swear to god, I was verging on a break down, not knowing when he could switch back and be his own charming self again." She monitored Kurt's expression carefully. "Do you know anything? Is Stevenson on his back? Is there a hidden camera somewhere?"

Kurt threw his hands to the sides. "Look, I don't know why he is acting so differently and who knows what's going on between him and Stevenson? Maybe we're not supposed to know. It could be a private matter." Kurt hated to lie to Charlene. They had confided in each other along the way and he trusted her completely. But Dubrowski had been fighting so hard to keep his part of their agreement that Kurt wouldn't dream of selling him out in any way; much less break the promise he had given. As for now only five people knew about the complaint and only three people knew about the agreement. Kurt wanted it to stay that way.

Charlene frowned and her shoulders slouched. Kurt locked eyes with her and smiled encouragingly. "Maybe we should just go with the flow, you know. It seems like he is trying, doesn't it? Besides, what do we really know about him? We've all heard bits and pieces about his past and we have seen him act all crazy, but we haven't got a clue about who he really is … or why he feels it's necessary to push people away before they've even thought about approaching him."

Charlene held her stare "I'm not convinced that you're not involved, Kurt. But I'll let it go for now. And you're right. Let's … give him a chance. It just feels a bit like walking through a minefield. You never quite know if something is going to explode underneath your feet."

"I know," Kurt said, "and believe me, I _do_ feel the same way. But I'll keep walking and hope for the best."

"And his scheduling," she continued, clearly not finished yet, "what was that all about?"

"Meaning?"

"It made sense! It was well thought through and he was ready to reschedule if things didn't add up."

"Is that a problem?"

"God, no! It's a relief … except, he almost made me unemployed."

"No he didn't," Kurt laughed. "If anything, he made your job easier."

Charlene blew a strand of hair away from her eyes, put her hand on her hip and let go of the frown that had been sculpted into her forehead ever since Dubrowski had moved the briefing into the conference room. "Okay, go with the flow, right?"

"Definitely. I'm not going to rock the boat."

She linked their arms together. "Sorry for being clingy, by the way. I tend to get emotional and unsettled when Tana isn't around."

"I can … relate to that."

She sighed. "Things are taking longer than expected in LA."

"I know. Complications seems to be that Joseph-guy's middle name. But I'm pretty confident that Quinn and her boss will cut him off this one last time. We're waiting for news about the settlement any day now. Cedes promised to call Blaine," Kurt said and checked his phone for any missed calls.

* * *

Quinn was sitting in the solitude of her car, running through the questions for the thousandth time. Her _friends_ believed she could do this and her _boss_ believed she could do this; but the pressure was building out of proportion as the time was passing by. She was supposed to represent Sam in a meeting with Brian Fay and his lawyer from Johnson and Stone in ten minutes. She hoped for a settlement; that would be the safest way out. Besides, she couldn't shake the feeling that Johnson and Stone wasn't that interested in going to trial. This was more likely a last attempt to get more money out of Sam and torment him for a bit longer.

She exhaled with pursed lips, following the green numbers on the digital watch when a loud knock on the window scared the shit out of her. Santana grinned widely and waved before she jumped in. "Hey girlfriend."

"What are you doing here, Tana," Quinn asked frantically with a hand to her pounding chest.

"I'm here to help you of course."

"With the settlement?"

"Yep."

Quinn closed her eyes, not sure she could take anything out of order at this moment. "I'm not sure that's such a great idea."

"Why not? You just tell them I'm your assistant."

"You can't just come here last minute and play my assistant. I am nervous as fuck and settlements take preparation."

"Look I'm not going to mess anything up, if that's what you're afraid of. I just didn't want you to go in there and face some big lawyer monster all on your own. I'll give you moral support."

"Tana ... it can only be moral support. You can't say _anything_ whatsoever. I don't want this more complicated than it already is."

"Why would I complicate things?"

"Emotional outbursts, Tana! There cannot be any emotional outbursts! Brian Fay's lawyer will be nasty and he will have a thrill trying to provoke a couple of girls like us to say something stupid."

"I swear … I'll be silent as a lamb."

"Lambs are not silent."

"A silent lamb is."

"Tana."

"No, honestly I will not say a thing," Santana said and raised her right hand to take an oath.

Quinn sighed. "Okay, assistant, I guess I really _could_ need some moral support ."

Santana fist pumped in the air. "Can I whisper things to you?"

"Why would you do that?"

"If I get any good ideas. I mean, I'm the observant and maybe I'll pick something up on body language or the overall atmosphere."

"No, you cannot whisper anything to me."

"Then what can I do?"

"You can write me a message on a piece of paper and then I'll look at it," Quinn stated and unbuckled.

Santana smiled excited. "That'll do. Now let's go kill that motherfucker Brain Fay."

"I am so going to regret this," Quinn mumbled and stepped out of the car.

The Johnson and Stone office was impressive and intimidating as any big law firm was supposed to be. But as the girls walked down the hallway, guided by a wry looking secretary in too high heels, Quinn found it surprisingly easy to pick up the professional version of herself. Santana's strong appearance rubbed off on her and she had never appreciated the support from her high school nemesis more than at this moment. They were shown into a small expensively furnished conference room and offered coffee and ice water. Soon after Brian Fay and his lawyer, a Mr. Harriet, arrived. Everybody shook hands and Quinn introduced Santana as her assistant.

Mr. Harriet soon proved to be the personification of a cliche. He was there to do his job and was just as annoying and pretentious as Quinn had expected him to be. But he was still a hotshot lawyer for a pretty insignificant person as Brian; a strip club _had_ to be about Joseph McKenzie and his rich and influential family; which ironically enough made Brian _that_ more interesting. He was her target and the one she had to move.

Standard polite phrases were exchanged between Quinn and Mr. Harriet before everybody took a seat and the purpose of the meeting was approached.

"We have received your letter of demand and understand there is an option for a reasonable settlement between Mr. Fay and Mr. Evans," Quinn started. "But before we begin the negotiation I have a few questions I'd like to ask."

Mr Harriet looked bored already but Quinn continued without hesitation. "You are claiming intentional infliction of emotional distress upon the physical injuries your client got almost four months ago. It's a very steep compensation you're asking for, considering it was a short fight and that we so far haven't heard anything about physical injuries of any kind."

"The timeframe is irrelevant, Ms Fabray, and the kind of compensation we're asking for is only fair considering the interior damage and the medical costs my client has had since the assault," Mr. Harriet replied. "And to call it a fight is hardly accurate since my client didn't hit back, but had to be rescued from a man out of control; your client, Sam Evans." He inhaled through his nose as to calm himself down before he continued. "Long term injuries don't show until later, and recently Mr. Fay has been suffering from headaches and a bad short term memory, which all leads back to the emotional distress he has suffered from. My client has been _traumatized_ by the experience; _traumatized_."

A subtle twitch in Brian Fay's face caught Quinn's interest. "So traumatized that he didn't miss a single day at work for at least a month after the incident?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

"I don't believe you have a record of that Ms. Fabray."

"No other than a testimony from my client, who met up outside the bar, every day for a month, trying to get in touch with Mr. Fay and apologize for what he had done."

"Unfortunately apologies will not pay medical bills or interior damage."

"I would love to see some documentation for the interior damage that you're talking about," Quinn said.

Mr Harriet immediately handed her a piece of paper as if he had been dying for her ask that question. It presented a listing of the things Sam allegedly had broken. The counter, three bar stools and about 30 glasses. It was outrageous. Quinn frowned. "How is it even possible for anybody to do this kind of damage with two trained door men just a few feet away?" she asked.

The lawyer stared at her blank faced. "Your client was hard to stop."

"Have you ever _seen_ my client?"

"That's irrelevant."

"I dispute that. Sam is half the size of a regular door man and with all do respect, Mr. Fay looks like he can take care of himself."

Another twitch from Brian.

Quinn continued. "Besides, my client has already paid $10,000 for interior damage the day after the assault and was told by a middleman that it would cover what had been broken."

"My client knows nothing of an arrangement like that," Mr. Harriet huffed out.

Santana was moaning quietly.

"How do you know that without consulting your client?" Quinn asked and tried to will Brian to look at her.

"It has been … a well known rumor around the bar and … Mr Fay and I have already discussed it." the lawyer wavered.

Santana scribble on a piece of paper and Quinn side eyed the words written. _Talk more about Sam. Brian is listening!_

She searched her mind for the right words. "You know, Sam is a great guy, who clearly made a mistake. Since the assault in Marts he has been hunted down by a loan shark, beaten up severely, paid three times the amount of money he borrowed to pay his boss and admitted himself to rehab in order to deal with his problems. This is kicking a man who is already down."

Mr. Harriet leaned closer and folded his hands in front of him, like he was explaining something to a little child. Every facial expression told them that he was amused. "However touching Mr. Evans story might be," he said sweetly, "it doesn't really change my clients suffering, now does it, Miss Fabray. Sam Evans lost it and attacked an innocent man whose only _crime_ was to dutifully make sure that the protocol of the bar was followed. Maybe your client expected a special treatment, but he was clearly never promised one."

Quinn leaned forward too, not budging an inch. "So protocol said that if a dancer was five minutes late he'd lose his spot?"

Mr. Harriet gave up his pose. "It says _don't be late_ and Sam was."

Quinn looked directly at Brian again. "Did that happen a lot? That somebody was late and would lose a spot?"

Brian side eyed his lawyer for a split second before his attention returned to his hands. So many unsaid things slipped out through his body language and found an expression of their own. But as long as he was gag ordered by his lawyer they wouldn't get anywhere.

"No that didn't happen a lot," Mr. Harriet said on behalf of his client.

"You said that Sam didn't receive special treatment, but what about some of the other guys? Could it be that those who had worked in the business for a long time were cut a little slack now and then?"

The lawyer squinted. "You are like an annoying bug, buzzing around my head with all your pointless, insignificant questions, trying to get my attention. We are not here to talk about the other guys, or the protocol or Mr. Evans' pathetic attempt to wipe off the cause of his bad temper on the one who lost most that terrible night. Your client attacked an innocent man, who is clearly still marked by the horrible incident and he trashed half a bar. So either he pays up enough to cover the damages or we will take this to trial and make sure Sam is locked up so he can't hurt anybody else. It's quite simple if you ask me. Now unless we start talking about a settlement and a reasonable amount of money, you are wasting my time and I will consider this meeting over?"

Quinn prayed for wisdom as the ground underneath her feet was trembling. She knew that a solid gut feeling was all she had besides her love for Sam and it was important not to chicken out or let the insecurity get visible. She searched through her briefcase, looking for the insurance claim. Sam would never be able to pay up, not even with the fund or a little help from his friends. She had to play hard ball or else they would be forced to play by Joseph's rules and the past had proved that it wouldn't stop there. She scribbled down a fifth of the amount of money they claimed and subtracted the $10,000 Sam had already paid for the damages. Then she folded the note and pushed it across the table, knowing that she was heading into an explosion. And she was right.

"I CANNOT believe that you have the nerve to come here into our well respected law firm and ridicule me," Mr. Harriet spat out. "This is highly unprofessional and if you don't know that, then you're not worthy of this profession." He knocked over the chair as he got up, red in the face from fury. "We're done, Miss Fabray. I'll see you in court."

But Quinn had gotten up just as fast and stood tall. "I seriously doubt you are that eager to take this to trial. It will take a lot of proof to justify your claim and in the bigger picture this will cost you and your company more in work hours than Sam will ever be able to pay." She narrowed in on Brian. "My assistant and I will be having lunch at the diner across the street. If your client should change his mind we will be there for the next hour."

"Have a nice lunch," the lawyer said through gritted teeth as he disappeared, dragging Brian along.

It wasn't until the silence surrounded the room again that Quinn dared to exhale. Her body was shaking, completely exhausted from the adrenalin running through her.

Santana grabbed her hand. "Now what?" she asked softly, afraid that her friend would cave completely from the pressure.

Quinn grabbed a bottle of water and gulped down half of it's content. It wasn't until she had calmed herself a bit down that she responded. "Now we wait. I have either saved Sam's ass or made everything ten times worse. It all depends on Brian Fay."

* * *

The girls soon found their way out of the building and crossed the street to the diner Quinn had mentioned. It was a quiet place and she was thankful for a corner booth in the back being available.

"Thank you for being in there with me, Tana," Quinn said when they were seated opposite each other. "I didn't know I would need it that much."

"But I didn't do anything," Santana claimed.

"That's what _you_ may think, but ... you gave me strength enough to not let that douche walk all over me." Quinn huffed out a laugh in surprised disbelief. "And do you know why?"

"Haven't got a clue, silly girl, who seems to find something amusing."

"Because I couldn't BARE being humiliated in front of you."

Santana snorted. "Shit Quinn, that's ... really fucked up. We're not in high school anymore."

"I know, right?" Quinn fought a girlish giggle.

"Buuut you're welcome. I'm glad I could help. And from now on just remember that you wouldn't be a such a badass lawyer-to-be if I hadn't been a bitch to you back then."

"I was a bitch on my own, so don't hog the spotlight all on your own."

Santana winked before the silence settled between them again. "Do you think he will show?" she asked carefully.

"I hope so. I … have this strong feeling that Brian actually likes Sam," Quinn answered. But it all comes down to the power of Joseph. Brian can be in just as much trouble as Sam is if he doesn't play along. And that's my biggest concern."

Santana pursed her lips. "You know what? Let's order lunch as we are supposed to and talk about something else. Nothing is going to happen for the next hour any way, right?"

"Right," Quinn sighed and reached for the menu. "I think I'll just have a salad." She scanned the options until her eyes found something entirely different. "Screw the salad, I'll have a big, tasty, greasy burger instead."

Santana snorted. "I'll order two of those then." She got up from her seat to order when Quinn pushed some cash her way. "No, Miss Fabray, this greasy burger is on me. It's a kill-that-smug-ass-lawyers-smile kind of burger and it will be a pleasure."

Quinn rolled her eyes for fun and watched Santana walk to the counter. Life had seemed so different and unexpected since Sam had got attacked. It had been a disruption in her ambitious but quiet everyday life and at the same time it had revealed a support system of friends that once again had proven to be there for each other. She was truly grateful and blessed but it also made her painfully aware that she hadn't made a lot of new friends in Phoenix.

Santana came back balancing two gigantic burgers that neither of them would ever be able to finish up. They both giggled as they attacked the mountain of meat, pickles, cheese, salad and ketchup.

"So what's your life like in New York?" Quinn asked between bites.

"It's good. I'm very … content with the way thing are at the moment."

"That was cryptic. Are you happy?"

Santana tossed her hair out of the burgers way to her mouth and chewed for awhile. "I think happiness is overrated in the sense that nobody is happy all the time. There is always the next problem or the next challenge. It's more … a matter of facing life's hardship surrounded by the right people. Dont' you think?"

Quinn suddenly blushed, feeling that Santana could see right through her. "I guess you're right."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Whatever," Santana smirked.

"So who are the right people for you?" Quinn asked curious.

"Well, that one is easy. Charlene, Kurt and Blaine, Ally, Cooper and Katie, Joyce - a single mom, who somehow fits perfectly into the gang - and Rachel, well even Finn counts in it all."

"Finn?" Quinn couldn't hide her surprise.

"I know, I know. We were practically enemies in high school, but when he's in New York to visit Kurt it just … feels goddamn right in a weird way to have him around. And I have a feeling Rachel feels the same way, except that she wants to do him and I don't." Santana laughed at her own snarkiness.

"Finn and Rachel? Again?"

"Well, it's no more again than you and Puck, is it?"

Quinn opened her mouth to protest but surrendered and threw her napkin across the table instead. "Fuck you, Tana."

"But I'm right. I know I am."

"Do you have some sort of sensor implanted?"

"Yep, and I've always had. I _could_ reveal a certain situation from high school involving you and Finn Hudson himself at a time where you were not supposed to date. But I'll leave that for now."

"Guess you could win the bitch prize after all," Quinn said a raised a brow.

"So you _are_ dating again?"

"We are … talking, a lot, about how we feel. And it gets harder and harder to go back to Phoenix when the weekend is over."

"You're good together, Quinn." Santana held her stare. "I mean it."

She shrugged. "We _could_ be and maybe this time we know what we want and what it takes. But please don't tell anybody. We … need more time."

"I promise."

The girls succeeded in steering the conversation away from Sam for awhile longer, but as the end of the one hour deadline approached, Quinn got jumpy and uneasy. What would she tell Sam if this didn't work out. "I fucked up," she whispered unhappy when the full hour had passed.

Santana squinted thoughtful. "Let's sit tight for awhile. I don't have anything else to do, anyway."

"Me neither," Quinn said heartbroken.


	22. Turning Tables

Twenty minutes past the deadline, with Quinn on the verge of a break down, the door to the diner suddenly opened and a hooded guy stepped in, looking carefully around. Quinn squeezed Santana's arm frantically as solid heartbeats got stuck in her throat. The guy's face was hidden, but his body size was a match. Santana turned slightly to get a look too, and nodded with subtle movements as he approached them. Brian Fay was coming alone - but he was coming. Without a word Santana moved over and made room for him to sit down. He seemed a lot calmer without his watchdog of a lawyer pinning him down.

"I hoped you'd still be here," he said quietly and pulled down the hood. "Sorry for the delay, but I'm pretty sure the diner has been watched for the past hour."

Quinn glanced out the window by his unsettling statement. "Watched by whom?" she asked alerted. "Joseph or your lawyer?"

"More likely some underpaid clerk at the law firm," Brian suggested. "I'm sure Mr Harriet thinks too highly of himself to do surveillance, but he would go far to prevent me from talking to the two of you."

"Say that again," Santana huffed out. "He might as well physically have gagged you at that meeting."

Brian slouched. "I was asked to keep my mouth shut at all times and I would be in serious trouble if I hadn't obeyed that order."

"Which means that you're taking a huge risk right now." Quinn concluded.

"Maybe, but Joseph doesn't know everything and I need it to stay that way for a few more days."

Quinn hesitated as she tried to read the bartender in front of her. This could be anything from a big scoop to a trap. They didn't know the first thing about him or his true alliance. Sam had described him as a nice guy compared to Joseph. But people change under pressure which meant they couldn't know for sure.

"Why are you here?" Santana asked.

Brian rubbed his forehead with tired, slow movements. "Look, You were right. Sam is a good guy and I really liked him. There was this honesty about him that sat him apart from the other guys. He did a good job and he was radiant on the stage. But he was also very naive and unfortunately Joseph spotted that pretty quickly."

"Is Joseph involved in the bar somehow?" Quinn asked. "Does he offer you protection?"

Brian protested quietly. "That's what he'd call it. But I don't need protection, except from the moron of a bodyguard he keeps around. But there is not much you can do if you want to run a business."

"Are you the official owner of the bar?" Santana asked.

"I am - but I have been trying to sell the business for awhile; without Joseph's knowledge. I have a lawyer on my own who is very well connected. He has been helping me out. Two weeks ago a buyer was found. I don't know much about him and I don't want to know either. But he is taking over in three days and by then I will have left town."

Quinn lowered her voice. "Are you leaving because of Joseph?". It was hard for her to trust him unless he confided in them somehow. "Does he have something on you?"

"With Joseph it's always tricky … but I leave … because of everything. I'm sick and tired of the business and of money being the one and only agenda. It's a dirty game and it leaves a lot of broken people behind - Sam is only one of them. It was great running the bar when I was younger and believed I could live forever, but … things have changed. I want a decent relationship and maybe a family one day."

"And Joseph wouldn't let you go if he knew," Quinn added.

"Not voluntarily, no. His deal with the bar is too profitable and I'm the only connection he has left to Sam at the moment. It pissed him off  _big_  time that somebody paid Sam out of his grip. He's not used to that. People in our business rarely have friends like Sam has."

Quinn gave in. They had this guy or nothing at all. "Can you tell us what happened the night Sam attacked you?" she asked. "It might be important if your lawyer pushes this to trial. Even though I doubt he can do it without breaking the law."

"I'll tell you what happened, but this case isn't going to trial. I'm dropping the charges," Brian said.

Quinn stared at him with hope fluttering somewhere in her chest. "But you'll be in trouble," she stated.

Brian shook his head. "Give me the three days I talked about and then there'll be a letter for you, officially withdrawing all accusations. They can't go through a trial without me."

Santana cleared her throat in the silence that emerged. "What makes you so sure that Joseph won't track you down and force you back? He can make your life a living hell compared to what it is now, right?"

"Joseph is only interested in one thing," Brian pointed out and looked at Santana, "and that's his precious area in LA around my bar. Once I've skipped town he'll stop caring and he will be too busy making sure the new owner will coorporate. A change of ownership can cause him a lot of work." His voice intensified as he continued. "But once the charges have been officially dropped it's crucial that Sam leaves town, too. It will never be safe for him to stay in LA."

"Sam would be ready to leave tomorrow if he could," Quinn assured. "I ... just … I hope you're telling the truth. If Sam gets his hopes up and everything falls apart once more ... I don't know where it will leave him. He's broken as it is."

Brian glanced around the diner once more. "Look, just keep quiet about this for the next three days, it's all I'll ask for, and Sam  _will_  be off the hook. Whether you tell him now or when you receive the letter is up to you."

"Do you need any kind of protection?" Santana asked. "We can help you hire somebody."

Brian shook his head. "It's important that everything stay as normal as possible until I have left."

"We understand," Santana said.

"Now please tell us what happened," Quinn prompted softly. "Sam hardly remembers anything from that night and I think Joseph worked him so hard that he has been questioning his own memory."

Brian sighed and took a moment. "Sam was late, not more than five minutes, but he  _was_  late. And it's true that we have a policy about the spot being given to somebody else if you're late, but it's mainly meant as a reminder and it's only effectuated if somebody gets sick or can't make it. It's not that easy to take over and especially not for a newbie, which was what happened in Sam's case. But I had a direct order from Joseph and he had been difficult for quite some time."

"Was the order meant for Sam specifically or was it a general thing?" Quinn asked.

Brian looked down on his hands, posing the same as they had witnessed at the meeting. "The order was only for Sam," he finally answered.

"But why?" Quinn whispered.

"He was Joseph's target. I can't phrase it any differently. It's how he works from time to time."

"What a son of a bitch," Santana sneered, leaving them all in silence until Brian was ready to continue.

"I had never anticipated Sam to react violently, but in a split second he was at the end of his rope. He lashed out at me once he understood I wouldn't change my mind and I  _did_  take a couple of hits before the doormen was there. I had a swollen lip and sore jaw for a few days … but that was it."

"And the interior damage?" Quinn inquired.

"He knocked down about a dozen of glasses that I had just lined up, but other than that nothing was broken."

Brian's confession was a relief and an outrage at the same time. It shouldn't be a surprise, knowing Joseph's manners, but to hear it, said out loud, was a lot to take.

"So the $10,000 was for a dozen glasses," Quinn clarified flatly.

Brian leaned closer to her. "You have to understand that I never received a dollar. Joseph lent that money to Sam just to take it back again. Sam and I were never allowed to interact with each other through any of this. I'm sure Sam was told that I had been paid, but the money was never meant for me in the first place. Broken glasses are covered by insurance unless you break about 300 at a time, I guess."

"Which means that Sam was pressured to pay $32,000 for absolutely nothing," Santana fumed. "Somebody should take that guy down!"

Brian turned to her. "Don't you think I have wanted that? Don't you think that I have tried to come up with some sort of trap, something that could hurt him or remove him from the bar? Because I have!" he emphasized with a raised voice. "Every single day! But this is LA and things ten times worse than that are happening right under our noses. It's cynical and evil, yes, but it's naive to believe anything can be done about it without paying the ultimate price at the end."

Quinn caught Santana's eyes and begged her silently not to push this any further. Santana sighed and let the steam out through the exhale. "You're right, Brian. I'm sorry. I guess this is just much more purposely planned than we had ever anticipated. From afar most of it seemed so random, until Sam was ready to give us all the pieces of the puzzle."

Brian calmed himself down again. "Of course you wouldn't know and Sam didn't have a chance to either, that's why Joseph found him so perfect."

"Did you know about the $10,000 deal?" Quinn asked.

"I heard the rumor and I was pissed. I saw Sam standing outside the bar everyday for weeks, but as I said we were kept apart and I know better than to rock the boat I'm sitting in. The McKenzie family is powerful but without his family's protection, Joseph would be nothing. The bigger gangs would crush him in a split second if a strict deal didn't prevent them not to."

Quinn squinted. "You know, during the exchange of money some of our friends were under the impression that Joseph may have overstepped his boundaries and done some business in another area. That's how they escaped a severe beating."

Brian barely blinked. "And?" he prompted surprised.

"They only implied it when Joseph kept dragging things out, but it was very obvious that he got scared," she explained.

"If that's even remotely true he is toast," Brian claimed. "The rumor alone could destroy him."

"It could be useful information if you get into any kind of trouble within the next three days," Santana suggested.

"Thanks for telling me," Brian mumbled. Then he snapped out of his thoughtfulness. "How is Sam now by the way?" he asked.

"It has taken him awhile," Quinn answered. "He is very very remorseful for what he did to you. Right now guilt is the main thing eating him up, I think."

"Oh God, he shouldn't be sorry for that," Brian moaned. "Please tell him that I said hello and that there are no hard feelings on my behalf. I have my own guilt to carry. It's as simple as that."

"We'll tell him," Santana said and put an encouraging hand on Brian's arm. "He'll be alright. He has an amazing girlfriend and she knows how to deal with his guilt trips."

Brian relaxed. "Besides a great girlfriend he must have some kickass friends. I heard that some big guy broke Big's nose."

Santana and Quinn laughed out loud, leaving Brian completely confused.

"To call Kurt a  _big guy_  must be the overstatement of the century," Santana explained, "but courage should never be underestimated, and Big was insulting his boyfriend, so he had it coming."

Brian's jaw could have hit the table. "Seriously? That son of a bitch. You should hear the stories running everywhere. Big described him as a giant!"

"Well I guess Big is a liar. You think you know people, right?" Quinn was still laughing.

Brian gave in completely. "It's outrageous, I know."

When he had left again ten minutes later, as hooded as when he came, the girls spontaneously fell into each others arms. Quinn wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

"What do we do?" Santana asked when they had let go of each other again. "Should we tell Sam right away?"

Quinn shook her head, determined not to get his hope up too soon. "No we'll say that Brian and his lawyer are considering our offer for the next three days and then, if everything works out, we can celebrate with a letter of freedom."

Santana smiled. "So this is just between you and me."

"Yes, between you and me," Quinn repeated and squeezed their hands together.

* * *

After a full morning session at the theater, with everybody tip-toeing around Dubrowski and his alienated behavior, no major disasters had happened and right before lunch Kurt had time to watch a rehearsal between Michelle and Dubrowski from one of the back row seats. He couldn't make out the words spoken, only observe their body language. Michelle acted very tense and on a defense. The history between the two of them was bad and her singing voice was narrow and flat when she was performing. So very different from how she sang when she was alone with Kurt.

Dubrowski looked tired and at the end of his rope. It had to be draining to work so hard for a change in behavior. But just as Kurt thought the director might snap and leave the discouraged girl alone on stage, he stopped in his tracks, turned around and headed back to her.

He talked to her for awhile with softer movements as if he was emphasizing something important. Michelle listened intensely and nodded now and then, until her shoulders suddenly lowered and her arms, that had been tightly crossed over her chest, loosened up. Dubrowski didn't leave her again before a smile spread across her face. Never in his wildest dreams had Kurt imagined that Dubrowski would take him this seriously and it was hard not to be utterly impressed.

Kurt was still lost in the interaction on the stage when two warm hands covered his eyes from behind. He chuckled. "Victor, I know it's you!"

Blaine roared in disappointment behind him and pinched his ear. "It's not even funny!"

Kurt laughed out loud and leaned back his head before he dragged Blaine down for a kiss. "Sure it is; and besides; I could track you down by your scent from miles any day. You'll never be able to sneak up on me, baby."

Blaine hummed forgivingly as he let their lips stay locked together. Then he jumped over the row effortlessly and dropped down next to Kurt, side eyeing what was happening on stage. "What's the verdict?" he asked. "Is he behaving?"

"He is more than behaving," Kurt answered. "He is bending over backwards to be nice, actually."

"Really?"

Kurt nodded. "I would have settled for a lot less. So now he just has to prove himself in the long run."

Blaine sighed. "He still gives me the creeps, Kurt. I'm sorry, it's just …"

Kurt laced their fingers together. "I know … and you don't have to like him. How about some lunch?"

"How much time have we got?" Blaine asked.

"About an hour."

Blaine smiled. "Let's find a nice place then. I'm starving."

They left the theater in a hurry but hadn't made it for more than a single block when Kurt stopped with a big frown. "Oh god, we're completely forgetting that Ally started in

costumes today and we haven't heard from her since our big you're-pregnant intervention."

Blaine deadpanned himself. "What's up with that by the way? No phone calls from her, no nothing. She just left us hanging for an entire weekend, not considering the importance of uncle-hood and the preparations something like that require."

Kurt giggled. "I know, right. We shake the ground underneath her feet and all of a sudden she can't even pick up the phone."

Blaine bit his bottom lip, looking gorgeous and playful in the spring sun. "Okay, change of plans." he said and grabbed Kurt's hand as he dragged him across the street.

"Where are we going?" Kurt asked curious.

"We … are going to buy fried shrimp for our favorite mom-to-be and head up to costumes. Then she'll  _have_  to tell us what's going on, right?"

Kurt stalled. "And what if she's not pregnant?"

"Then why would she like fried food all of a sudden? Wait a minute … are you saying that you could be wrong?"

" _I_  could be wrong?" Kurt said with big smiling eyes. " _We_ could be wrong, Blaine. We were both pretty convinced and I'm not taking the fall for this all on my own."

"I don't know anything about pregnancies, Kurt. That's your ball game."

Kurt bellowed out a laugh and had to stop to catch his breath. "How come pregnancies are my ball game all of a sudden?"

"I don't know … you were just all " _of course she's pregnant_ "", Blaine said, imitating Kurt's voice with a lofty tone. Then he poked Kurt with his finger. "YOU convinced me. That's all I'm saying."

Kurt laughed into a kiss. "The things I let you get away with."

* * *

The costume department was occupying all of the second floor with big lofty rooms sorted into storage or crafting. Kurt had never been up here because his costumes didn't need fitting and as he and Blaine stepped into the biggest sewing room, they couldn't help looking around in amazement. Rows upon rows of clothes and accessories were wrapped neatly on hangers and tagged with little colored notes that made a system only insiders could make sense of. This  _had_  to be heaven for Ally compared to the limited space the loft offered her. Sewing machines were buzzing underneath bend over necks, and by a table, centered in the room, two girls sat fully concentrated on beading Cordelia's dress after the alterations.

"Are you here for fittings?" one of the girls asked when she finally noticed they had company.

Blaine smiled. "No, this is a lunch delivery for Ally."

"Oh." The girl leaned over the table to take a peek into the next room and then she got up. "She is pretty hung up at the moment, but I'll make sure she gets it." She reached out for the take out boxes when Kurt interrupted.

"I'm sorry, but this is a personal delivery. We were told  _only_  to give it to, Ally."

The seamstress looked lost for a moment. "Um, okay, just a minute then."

When she was out of sight Kurt leaned closer and whispered. "You  _do_  look like a delivery guy, by the way. All you need is a cute cap and a pile of pizza boxes."

" _Just_  a cap and a pile of pizza boxes?"

Kurt bit his lips, fighting back a giggle and bumped Blaine with the side of his hip. "Don't take this to places I didn't intend them to."

"What if _I_ want to go to those places?" Blaine's eyes were golden brown, pinning him down with his gaze.

Kurt hummed. "Well, I suppose I would be open to the idea."

Their muffled banter abruptly drowned in the voice of a loud, complaining Ally, coming from the next room. "Personal delivery my ass, since when did  _that_  become a demand." She showed in the doorway, one hand on her hip, cheeks heated into a flustered red and a measuring tape around he neck. Her flaming hair had, for the most part, escaped the floral hairband that had been faced with quite a challenge. But then her green eyes grew big and lit up before a pearly white smile spread from ear to ear. "Oh my god, boys. It's you … it's you. It's so good to see you!" She reached them in few strides, hugged them both at the same time as she covered them in red curls.

"Well I was worried there for a minute," Blaine laughed a blew her hair away from his eyes. "You're pretty scary when you're upset and interrupted; like a mother dragon coming out of it's cave."

Ally used her hands as a fan, trying to cool down. "I know, I know. Sorry about that. We are just way behind and every minute counts. But if that box contains what it smells like, I'm on a serious break." She reached out for the food with hungry eyes, but Kurt was faster and hid the box behind his back.

"Before you dive into whatever we have bought I think you owe us an answer to a very specific question, don't you?" he asked.

Ally tilted her head. "Fair enough," she agreed and glanced at the girls behind them. "But it will take some privacy." She got a hold of Kurt's hand and with a secretive smile she led the way through one of the storage room and further into a much smaller room with a kitchenette. Then she turned around with a snap and looked at them expectantly.

"So?" Blaine asked breathless.

"Fucking, freaking yes!" she burst out, shining like a sun.

Kurt threw his arms around her neck followed by Blaine as they started laughing.

"And is everything allright?" Kurt asked.

"I am perfectly fine and so is the little munchkin," Ally assured with a gentle stroke across her belly. "I'm 4 months pregnant and I swear to god, if it hadn't been for the two of you I might not have noticed anything before trying to squeeze out a kid five months from now. I could have been one of those clueless girls they show on television, giving birth in a bathtub or down the toilet. Can you imagine that?"

"That would have been awesome," Blaine laughed. "I'm sure you and Fred would have been a cute couple on camera."

Ally rolled her eyes. "Don't even go there."

"You seem happy," Kurt said with a content sigh, "but something must have changed since Thursday? You were close to a heart attack as I remember it."

Her smile was genuine as it lit up the room. "Fred happened! You guys should have seen his face. I bought three tests from the pharmacy on my way home and freaked out big time the moment he stepped inside the apartment. But then… well, you know Fred, just being his own calm self, talking me down and kissing me and promising me that no matter what the test said, we'd work it out. So when my breathing had turned normal I pulled myself together and peed on the stupid stick. Which isn't all that easy for girls to do, just so you know."

"Too much information, but keep going," Kurt added.

"And then it was just like in the movies, you know. We sat there, two grown up people, with a carefree life, two careers and a small apartment, looking at a piece of plastic that held the possibility to define the rest of our lives. To be honest I didn't know what to hope for at that moment. I was numb and confused. So when only one blue line showed instead of two ... I was suddenly disappointed. It was so weird and fucked up."

"So one blue line is  _not pregnant_ ," Blaine concluded.

"Exactly. Anyway, we found ourselves walking around in circles in our livingroom, trying to figure out how to feel. So Fred invited me out for dinner just to break the funk and we agreed that I would take a test again when we returned later that night. Because you never know, right."

The boys nodded as if they understood completely why it was necessary to take more than one pregnancy test a day.

Ally continued with a smirk. "And … dinner was nice, but I have never eaten so fast in my life before. I think Fred asked for the check after half an hour. So we hurried home to use the second test … or I mean … I used the second test. But Fred was with me in the bathroom."

"Too much information," Kurt moaned again

"As you may have guessed the second test turned out positive."

"Two blue lines," Blaine clarified.

"You're a smart guy, Blainers." Ally said impressed.

"Thank you." He said beaming even though Kurt shook his head in disbelief.

"Anyway, as we sat there with beating hearts and sweaty hands we decided to make it two out of three. So I took the third test as well. But … then I couldn't pee. I mean … I could literally not squeeze out a single drop."

"I know that feeling," Blaine interjected, "too much pressure, right?"

"Right," Ally repeated. "And I was going insane. I couldn't handle this major development in my life without having it reaffirmed. So I filled a bottle with water and started drinking like a maniac, while Fred cheered on me like we were at a keg party and I was gulping down beer instead of water." She laughed at the mere memory. "It was hilarious. It took 45 minutes before I was ready again, but it paid off when we were rewarded with the two most beautiful blue lines I have ever seen."

"And then you knew for sure," Kurt stated, eager to move on.

"You'd think that, right?" Ally mumbled

"But?"

"Um, Fred kind of ran down to the nearest grocery store and bought five more tests," she admitted.

"That's addiction to blue lines," Kurt burst out. "I'm sure there's a Blue Line Anonymous out there. You and Fred are candidates, for sure."

She blushed. "I guess, but the truth is that I took them - all five. You see I developed a method where I could pee on three sticks in one go. I'd say I'm a semi-pro by now."

Kurt opened his mouth to protest again but Ally stopped him with a warning finger in the air. "No, Kurt. It's not too much information. I'm allowed to talk about peeing and I  _will_  tell you guys all about giving birth too; every little bloody detail. And imagine what it will be like once I start breast feeding at the office."

Kurt closed his mouth again and turned pale.

"You were the one saying having a kid at the loft was no problem, so you better stick to your word," she reminded him.

Blaine started laughing until and Kurt poked him in the side. "That's not funny, at all."

"Of course it's funny, Kurt," Ally claimed, "and I'm not even done yet."

"So this is not all?" Kurt asked.

"Nope."

"You're expecting twins," Blaine suggested.

"No!"

"You and Fred have decided to move to New Jersey and buy a pretty suburban house with a perfect lawn, framed by a neat, white picket fence," Kurt tried.

"Don't insult me," Ally said horrified, but then her features softened as she stretched out her hand for them to see. On her index finger was a wooden ring, beautifully carved with a Gardenia on the top. Completely unique in every way, just as Ally.

"No way," Blaine gasped. "Did a question follow that ring?"

Ally nodded eagerly. "And I may have said yes in a weak hormonal moment with limited brain capacity. But … I have not come to my senses yet and … maybe I never will. I love him and I want to be with him. It's just as simple and complex as this ring."

"Damn it, girl. Now I get all misty eyed," Kurt whispered and dragged her in for another hug.

"I knew I could get to you," Ally said and blinked quickly, completely missing the long lingering look exchanged between Kurt and Blaine.


	23. Past Is In The Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice and lovely chapter with a touch of smut ... or more ;)

"What do you think?" Dubrowski asked as he joined Kurt in the center of the theater room. Together they watched the opening scene of Cordelia that introduced all the characters of Coalan's village in a huge set-up of dancing and singing. Without realizing it, the two men mirrored each others pose; arms crossed over their chests and a pondering expression carved into their faces. The cast and crew were slowly adapting to the fact that the two sworn enemies were not only on speaking terms, but also seemed to cooperate with each other. Kurt was rarely confronted with people's theories about what had happened, but it was an overall understanding that Kurt would have  _had_  to be involved in the directors change of heart and his brand new behavior.

"I don't know," Kurt finally answered, when the number had come to an end. "I mean, everybody is doing their job and hitting the marks and there's a great vibe on stage … but I don't know … it still feels less crowded and buzzing than I remember it at the Pantheon."

Dubrowski nodded slowly. "The stage here is bigger than at the Pantheon," he suggested. "Things are more spread out. But I agree. The act could be tighter. It's just very late to add more people. They would have to learn the dance routine and the opening song and parts of it would require new choreography from Charlene."

Kurt hummed as an idea appeared. "It doesn't have to be that substantial," he said eagerly. "Do you know what would bring more life to the stage?"

"No," Dubrowski answered flatly, still looking at the stage, "but I'm sure you are going to tell me."

"Kids!"

"What!"

"Children," Kurt clarified.

"No - no, no, no."

"But think about it," Kurt continued unabashed. "A village has to have kids and they could chase each other around on the stage and make things more real, you know, play around."

Dubrowski moaned. "The thought alone wears me out."

"But why? They don't have to learn the dance routine or even the song for that matter. The chase should be choreographed of course, but that would be it."

"Kurt," Dubrowski objected. "I'm not good with kids and I'm sure you can imagine why. I get grown ups to cry just by looking at them - more or less intentionally - how do you think I handle kids? And besides, kids never do what you ask them to. They are noisy and it's impossible for them to stay at the same spot for more than a minute. Theater is the art of waiting until it's your turn."

Kurt couldn't fight his amusement. "Okay listen, yes, kids can be unpredictable and sometimes you have to get down on their level to explain what you want them to do, but honestly, that's what make kids really cool." Dubrowski wanted to object again, but Kurt continued. "However, I do see your problem and we just have to work around it."

"How?"

"Well, you don't have to be responsible for them. Leave it to me and maybe I could get Charlene to help me. You just tell us what you want them to do, and we'll direct everything involving their part. What do you say?"

"It takes more than that, Kurt. We have to go through auditions and new rehearsals, there are costumes and none of us want to mess with the costume department right now."

"Look, I happen to know two great kids, a boy and a girl, that would be thrilled to be a part of this and they will be no trouble at all. The boy is Blaine's former student and he and his mom are some of our closest friends."

"So you have been planning this out all along; a stage mom and two kids thinking they are about to get famous," Dubrowski summed up grumpily.

"First of all, no I haven't been planning out anything; and second of all, Joyce is not a stage mom, nor will she ever be, and no, they have never asked for any favors when it comes to the theater. Kevin and Lucy can do the job. I've never heard Lucy sing, but I know how amazing Kevin is. They're both mature for their age and will make no fuss whatsoever. They love musicals and the theater, are well brought up, and I can guarantee that they will give you all they've got … as long as you don't yell at them … or threaten to fire them, so to speak."

"Okay," Dubrowski said tiredly.

"Okay?" Kurt repeated in disbelief.

"Yes, that's what I said, right?" Dubrowski grunted. "I'm starting to believe it's a matter of life or death to you."

Kurt spontaneously hugged him. "Thank you, it will be so great, I promise."

Dubrowski froze in the embrace, looking miles out of his comfort zone. "Sorry," Kurt said and hurriedly let go. "Got a bit carried away there."

Kurt arranged everything later that day and as predicted both Kevin and Lucy were over the moon thrilled about the opportunity they were given. Kurt scheduled them for rehearsal the following day and made sure Charlene was filled in.

* * *

 

"You could have told me," Dubrowski said frantically when he found Kurt in his dressing room the next afternoon.

Kurt looked into the hallway behind Dubrowski to make sure no one was listening before he closed the door. Glimpses of the old Dubrowski couldn't be avoided every now and then, but it was important to him that these situations were not on display. Kurt could handle them fine on his own.

"Told you what?" Kurt then asked confused.

"Who Kevin's mom was," the director continued. "I have been rotating on the spot for like 10 minutes and I would have appreciated a warning!"

It was impossible for Kurt to read the director at this moment. For once he seemed to be intimidated by something instead of doing the intimidating. "I'm lost here," Kurt said truthfully, "and Joyce and the kids weren't supposed to be here for at least half an hour."

"Well, they are here now and I may have gotten rid of every picture I ever took of you and her, but I sure as hell haven't forgotten what she looks like!"

The dots finally found a connection in Kurt's head. "Oh … oh, you're right, she was with me … that day you ... I um … I had honestly not thought about that for a minute and I've kept my promise. No one knows about those pictures besides Blaine."

Dubrowski dropped down on a chair with a heavy thump, pondering. "I'm just," he started, but evidently lost his nerve. "Well, thank you for keeping your promises, Kurt, all of them."

"You're welcome," Kurt answered, "and just so you know; I don't find it hard to keep them, because you certainly are keeping yours."

Dubrowski sighed, "Yeah, well."

"So did you talk to Kevin and Lucy?" Kurt asked curiously.

"Yes, yes I did. We talked for about ten minutes, because I didn't know the first thing to say to Kevin's mom. So I kind of had to stall for time, hoping you or Charleen would come by to save me."

Kurt laughed at Dubrowski's eyeroll. "Joyce, her name is Joyce." And what did you think about the kids?"

"They were alright," Dubrowski said with a shrug. "They were actually very polite to be accurate."

"Great," Kurt smiled. "You'll see that they'll be perfect for the part and I promise I'll take over from here. No more awkward moments with Joyce, no more stalling for time. You just do what you need to do."

Dubrowski got up. "Okay, okay - thank you," he sighed.

The two men walked back to the theater room, but when a smiling Joyce approached and gave Kurt a warm hug, Dubrowski was no where to be found.

Kevin had moved on from the stage of hugging, and high fived Kurt instead, but he couldn't hide his excitement.

"Hi big guy," Kurt said with a smile, "glad you could make it."

"Make it?" Kevin said in disbelief, "this is like the coolest thing ever! I can't believe we get to do this."

Then Lucy took over, trying to be more dignified about her reaction. "It's so nice to be here, Mr. Hummel," she said stretching out her hand.

Kurt bit his lip to prevent laughing. "Wow, that was very formal Miss Lucy, but you can call me Kurt, that's what my friends do."

Lucy smiled in return. "I was just practicing being professional about this," she confided in a lowered voice, "because Kev and I have promised each other that we will do this the right way and we don't expect special treatment just because we know you. It's going on our resume after all, and I believe everything counts in the pursue of a theater career."

"Okay, that's it," Kurt said and smirked at Joyce. "We have to cut down on the time these guys spend with Rachel Berry."

"No way," Kevin objected on behalf of his girlfriend - a fact that was a bit sensitive to him, and therefore shouldn't be mentioned. "Rachel is our ticket pusher for the theater, which means our connection with her stays."

Kurt leaned closer. "And yet, it's your uncle Kurt who got you a part in an actual play, just remember that." He winked as Joyce laughed.

"Oh we love both of you, Lucy assured with a smile that - honest to god -  _would_  have made Rachel proud.

* * *

 

"Sam, you have a visitor." Quinn's voice came from behind him as he was found in the park as usual. He was still not allowed to put any kind of pressure on the casted leg, but Jackpot constantly challenged him to move around and with the wounds on his hands recovered and the strength in his body improving, he found it easier day by day to work the crutches and walk around. He smiled without turning, enjoying the fact that she was there. "And the visitor isn't you?" he asked and got up from the bench before he met her eyes and saw Santana was there too, looking pretty secretive.

"No, this is someone who hasn't been here before," she answered softly. Sam looked behind her and turned pale within a second. His body still reacted out of his control when it came to certain things and Brian Fay was connected with an avalanche of mixed feelings; shame, fear and to some extent, betrayal. His former boss wore a careful smile and his cautiousness was palpable.

"I know that I may be the last person you feel like seeing at this point," Brian stated as he came closer, "but I promise you that I'm here with good news only."

Sam swallowed hard and looked around for Mercedes. His need for her to be close was constantly growing, especially when he was under pressure. With relief he discovered that she was headed their way, carrying a tray with juice and fruit. She was at the center as much as she could, working around different gigs she had been booked for.

"Hi guys," Mercedes said with a big smile and put down the tray. "I didn't know we had company. I'll just go get some more refreshments." She wiped off her hands and looked curiously at Brian. "I don't think we've met, are you a friend of Sam's?" she asked.

Sam's heart pounded. Mercedes had never met Brian and she couldn't possibly know who he was.

Brian cleared his throat before Sam could even think of a way to warn her.

"Yes, I'm a friend of Sam's," Brian said, "even though he may not believe it right now."

Mercedes found Sam's haunted eyes and frowned.

"I'm Brian Fay, and I can assure both of you than I'm only here to make things right. The way they were supposed to be from the beginning."

Mercedes promptly took Sam's hand in both of hers and let her calmness radiate over him. Then she caught Quinn and Santana's reassuring nods before her attention returned to Brian. He was fiddling with a letter in his hands.

"Sam, I never wanted to hurt you and it has been heartbreaking to watch Joseph crush you like he did," Brian started nervously. "I hope that you one day can forgive me for what I have done .. or maybe more for what I didn't do."

Sam licked his dry lips, uncertain of the true meaning of the words spoken.

"I was forced to sue you," Brian explained, "but now I'm in a situation where I can withdraw all accusations. Accusations that have never been true in the first place." He carefully stepped closer and reached out the letter to Sam. "This explains the withdrawal in legal terms ... but to me it's a letter of freedom; for both of us."

Sam received the letter and with shaking hands he opened the envelope and unfolded the paper that did look official, with a Law Firm's stamp on the top. Together with Mercedes he scanned the lines in disbelief; words blurred, but still forming sentences that would set him free. His chin began to shiver and a held back breath seeped through his pointed lips.

"Brian, I was in such a dark place that night I attacked you. And it has been the biggest regret in my entire life. Something that has tormented me through nights I never thought I would survive."

"I know you were at a dark place," Brian interrupted with worried eyes, "but it was a dark place, Joseph put you in. Don't ever forget that."

Sam looked at his letter of freedom again. "Maybe … but I still need to own my part of it. He blinked. "Brian, to forgive you isn't hard at all, but can you forgive  _me_?"

"Of course," Brian stuttered, "I forgive you completely."

Tears that had blurred Sam's eyesight, broke into drops and ran down his cheeks until they hit the letter he was still clutching in his hand. Brian reached him without hesitation and threw his arms around him. "Oh my god, I had no idea this was troubling you so bad," he whispered. Then he huffed out an emotional laugh and let go of Sam again. He was not that easily moved and big words had never been his strong side, but he realized that this could be the most significant thing he had ever done in his entire life. Brian ran a fast hand through his hair and looked down awkwardly before he managed to collect himself again. "I'm leaving LA now," he then said. "I'm actually on my way to the airport, leaving as much distance to Joseph as possible."

"Will you be in trouble?" Sam asked, on alert.

"No, I'll be fine," Brian answered. "I'll be better than fine."

The two men looked at each other in a moment of understanding, like two survivors sharing a common ordeal that no one else would fully get; because they simply hadn't been there.

"I don't know how to thank you," Sam whispered.

"You don't have to," Brian replied. "I should have turned you down the first time you stepped into my bar. I knew already then that you were too kindhearted for that kind of toxic environment. Then maybe things might have played out differently."

"I doubt it, Sam objected." I was at the end of my rope, and if it hadn't been Joseph, it would have been somebody else."

"Maybe," Brian added, "but let the past be the past. I just want you to promise me two things."

Sam nodded. "Of course."

"First of all; get out of LA. You'll never be safe here and Joseph will hold a grudge forever. And secondly; promise me that you will live your life to the fullest. Forgive yourself and make sure to keep your friends close, because honestly … they are out of this world."

Sam looked at Mercedes, Quinn and Santana and the biggest smile that any of them had seen for months, appeared on his face. "I know," he breathed out. "I'll never lose sight of them and I'll have their backs for the rest of my life."

When Brian had said goodbye and Sam, Mercedes, Quinn and Santana had huddled up for the longest group hug ever, Sam kept repeating: "I promise,I promise, I promise."

For the following two hours he tried to let the news sink in as the girls took turns reading his letter of freedom out loud, until the four of them knew every word by heart. Mercedes didn't let go of his hand for more than a couple of seconds at a time, crying and laughing at the same time. After Santana and Quinn had said goodnight, he called his family and talked to them for a long time, soaring because of the relieved laughter that met his ear. His siblings interrupted each other, eagerly asking questions, his mother kept thanking God for answering all her prayers and taking care of her son, and he could hear his father snuffling in the background. When he had hung up again and was alone with Mercedes, they got down on the bed, all tangled up in each other. Mercedes let her fingers run through his hair and whispered words of faith and encouragement into their new situation. The truth was, that he didn't deserve her; he never had - and yet here she was, wrapping him up in a love that didn't make sense, but felt more right than anything in his entire life.

"You're tired, baby," she whispered when he was drifting into a calm state of sleep.

"Yes," he mumbled, "but when I wake up again I am going to call Blaine."

"He will be over the moon happy," Mercedes answered and kissed his eyelids, already fluttering as he fell asleep.

* * *

 

Late at night after a long, tiring day at the theater, Kurt finally stepped inside the apartment. There he was met by a pair of eager lips tackling him within a second. "That's what I call a welcome home," he mumbled happily as he dropped his bag to the floor in order to cup Blaine's cheeks and make sure the kiss lasted for as long as possible. Kurt closed his eyes and let the pleasure run through his veins. "Love you," he said and became aware of the growing bulge in his pants.

"I love you, too," Blaine replied with a voice bursting with excitement.

Kurt opened his eyes and enjoyed his ridiculously happy looking boyfriend. "Something extraordinarily good has happened, right?" he stated without having a clue. "It's written all over your face.

"True, but you have no idea just  _how_  good news I have," Blaine teased and dragged Kurt into their living room, making it comfortable for both of them on the couch.

"Don't make me guess," Kurt begged. "I'm way too curious for dragged-out news."

"Sam called," Blaine blurted out.

"He called you himself?" Kurt asked with surprise.

"Yep!"

Up until now all news, good or bad, had been delivered by their friends and Kurt knew how much Blaine had missed the phone calls from Sam.

"Does that mean he's better?" Kurt asked.

"It means that he is free."

"As in ..."

"As in all charges have been dropped," Blaine laughed. "The bartender, Brian, visited him yesterday at the center and delivered a letter, clearing him completely."

A warm sensation prickled under Kurt's skin. "Wow, that's just ... that's fantastic."

Blaine continued. "He told me everything that has been going on for the last three days and … I didn't get half of it to be honest, because he was so ecstatic and emotional. But I think Quinn and Santana did a hell of a job getting to Brian and putting all the pieces together. So today they all met. Brian is leaving town for good and I think he and Sam hugged before he left!" Blaine grinned. "Kurt, you should have heard him on the phone, he sounded so much more like the old, happy Sam."

"Let me have a moment here, baby," Kurt interrupted. "I had never … imagined he would get off completely. I thought best case would be a settlement."

"I'm sure Joseph was counting on that, too."

"Joseph?" Kurt asked confused.

Blaine nodded like he was Sherlock Holmes himself and just had solved a mystery. "You see, it turned out that Joseph was pulling the strings again - Brian just wouldn't play along this time, so now he is finally running out of options."

Kurt frowned. "Sam and Mercedes cannot stay in LA, Blaine, we  _have_  to get them out of there. The sooner the better. Did you talk with him about their options here in New York?"

"Our LA friends are way ahead of us," Blaine explained. "Sam and Mercedes are moving here in two weeks. Puck, Artie and Quinn will help Mercedes pack, while Sam wrap things up at the center; which means they need to move into the loft when they get here. Then they'll be looking for something of their own as soon as they land on their feet."

"Oh, good," Kurt said thrilled. "We better get things shined up a bit at the loft. We could buy new sheets for the bed and a couple of big cushions, you know, like the ones we saw the other day. We'll make them feel at home right from the start."

Blaine smiled and then he bit his bottom lip.

"What?" Kurt asked suspiciously.

"Um … that's not all. Sam will be signed out of the facility within the next week and Mercedes is throwing him a surprise beach party next Saturday ... and she kind of hoped that everyone from the old Glee club would be there."

Kurt did the math with a heavy heart. "Blaine, you'll have to go alone. Next Saturday is only 6 days from Opening Night. I cannot bail on them that close to the final rehearsals."

"I know it's tricky," Blaine agreed, "but I have thought it through and if only we're smart about it you don't have be gone for that long. If we take off, late Friday night, after you're done at theater, we'll sleep on the plane, party on Saturday, take the red eye back early Sunday morning, pour a trazillion cups of coffee down your throat and get you ready for rehearsals Sunday by noon." Blaine held his breath as his golden stare begged Kurt to get on board, or at least understand why this was so important to him.

Kurt's internal struggle banged him up inside as he grabbed Blaine's hand and intertwined their fingers. He was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke. "It's not that I don't want to be there, Blaine, you know that. But to ask - even for  _one_  day off this late in the production - it could ruin everything that has been mended between Dub and I. It's still fragile and I can't help feeling that I'm walking on a thin layer of ice that still could break if I made a wrong move. It would be risky and really hard to ask him for this."

Blaine didn't pull back as Kurt had feared he would. He must have known how Kurt would react. "I'm aware of the risk," he said and kept Kurt's eyes locked. "But asking, isn't breaking anything between the two of you. He has every right to say no, but - honestly - I think he owes us this. I'm not saying you should rock the boat, but this is so important to me. And I'm not going to LA without you this time. I know you would want me to, but I can't do it."

Kurt melted in a way only Blaine could get him to. He blinked rapidly and let his hand run down Blaine's cheek and made it rest there. "I'll ask him, of course I will."

Blaine pushed further into his hand. "Thank you, Kurt."

"But we'll have to have a plan B if he turns me down," Kurt reminded both of them.

Blaine nodded. "I have a suggestion. It might not be a plan B, but maybe it can make it easier for Dubrowski to make up his mind."

"I'm listening."

"I know I have been holding my grudges when it comes to Dubrowski," Blaine said, "mainly because I couldn't let it go; but also because I didn't _want_  to let him off the hook. I didn't think he deserved it. I'm not ashamed to admit all this, but I don't want it to last forever either. So if it helps in any way, I'm willing to talk to him about everything that has happened between us."

"You are?" Kurt asked surprised. He knew this wasn't going to be easy for Blaine.

"Yes!"

"And it's not just a way to bribe him?"

"Nooo."

"Blaine!"

"Okay - maybe a bit, but I can't stay mad at the guy forever if the two of you can work things out from now on."

Kurt shot him a small smile. "It would mean the world to him, Blaine - but it would mean a lot to me, too."

"I know - just don't invite him over here. Maybe the three of us could meet at a coffee shop somewhere. I need it to be neutral ground."

"Of course," Kurt promised. "We'll do it any way you prefer. I want you to be comfortable about it."

Blaine leaned closer and lowered his voice. "You'll have to admit that there  _is_  a possibility he might take the bait and say yes."

Kurt's body reacted to the sudden closeness between them and the sound of Blaine's soft voice. "I'm still not convinced," he said and tried to stay focused on the conversation, "but I'll ask Dubrowski first thing in the morning; I promise." He moved closer and cuddled into Blaine's chest until he could hear his calm, steady heartbeat and feel the warmth of his skin through the shirt.

Blaine ran his fingers through Kurt's thick hair and rubbed his scalp with the tip of his fingers. Shivers ran up and down Kurt's spine and he hummed in pleasure when a familiar pull low in his abdomen stirred.

"When you think about it, it could be a great opportunity for Vladimir too," Blaine continued, apparently unaware of Kurt's wandering mind. "I know he has played the part before, but that was in the middle of a conflict where everybody was on your side. If he stepped in again, I bet the cast would respect his performance a lot more, coming with your blessing."

Kurt drew circles on Blaine's upper arm with his fingers and thought about how well those arms fit around him and how easily they could hold him up.

"And in my opinion Vladimir needs a positive experience on the stage if he's supposed to make a fair decision about his future," Blaine said.

Kurt inhaled the familiar scent of Blaine's aftershave, mixed with the subtle saltiness from a day passed by. Scent was a trigger for him and this one felt like home, and need, and pleasure all in one.

"Are you there, baby," Blaine chuckled.

Kurt hummed again and considered Blaine's suggestion about Vladimir. "Since when have you become the smartest one of us," he teased and held on tight to Blaine's body.

"I've always been the smartest," Blaine stated. "You've just never been smart enough to see it."

Blaine still wore a smug face when Kurt took him by surprise and pinned him down into the couch with a victorious smile. "What did you just say?"

Blaine laughed too hard to get out of his iron grip. "I merely suggested that you are not as smart as you think."

With his body lowered down on Blaine, Kurt established his top position. "You are so going to regret this," he grinned and tried to hold both of Blaine's hands down so he could reach his side and tickle him. But even though Kurt had the advantage he struggled hard to keep Blaine in check; that was until Kurt caught his mouth and moved into a deep kiss right away. Taste, was another trigger for Kurt, and Blaine's soft tongue met him willingly. With a satisfied moan from Blaine, Kurt moved on as he slowly separated Blaine's legs with his thigh.

"That's cheating Hummel, not a fair fight," Blaine panted happily when Kurt gave them room for air.

Kurt pushed upwards until he could feel Blaine's erection through his pants. "Does that mean you want me to stop," he asked between soft kisses.

"Nooo," Blaine huffed out, jolting his hips upwards. "Please don't stop."

With warm cheeks Kurt straddled his boyfriend instead and made sure his own erection could be felt. A heavy breath escaped the beautiful man underneath him and even though Blaine's hands were still pinned down he tried to reach up for Kurt's mouth again. But Kurt pulled away, just out of reach. "Not so fast, baby."

Blaine dropped down again with a whine. "Kuurt!"

"But I like it when you say please," Kurt pointed out and wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, completely aware that Blaine was following every move with hungry eyes.

Blaine squirmed "Please, Kurt."

"Please Kurt what?"

"I wanna kiss you so bad," Blaine answered needy. "Please, just let me kiss you."

Kurt tilted his head and intertwined their fingers instead of holding Blaine down. "Just kiss, huh?"

"No, no, I wanna do more than that," Blaine assured, "I always want to do more."

With a happy sigh Kurt gave in and took up kissing. "What else do you want to do?" he whispered into Blaine's mouth.

Blaine closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again Kurt let himself drown in the desire he saw in there.

"I want to lick your neck," Blaine stated and grinded slowly underneath him. "You know, just let my tongue find your love spots; the ones that drive you crazy; behind your ear, under your jaw and right in the dip of your collarbone." Blaine parted his lips into a smile. "I will go slowly at first, with a soft tongue - just to make you shiver."

Kurt's breath got stuck in his chest and he couldn't tear his eyes away from Blaine's mouth.

"Later, when I can't control myself anymore, I will suck, and scrape, and mark you, until your skin shows that you belong to me."

Kurt was getting painfully hard in his tight pants, that he cursed far too much in situations like these. He tried to adjust himself, but Blaine was way ahead of him as he placed Kurt's hands on the armrest for support before he reached down between them and unbuttoned his pants.

The release was heavenly.

"I want to taste you everywhere I can get to," Blaine continued. "I want to take care of you; make your senses spiral out of control until you forget everything around you. Every logical thought will ceases to matter, because all you'll care about is the pleasure you know I will give you." Blaine slipped his hands into Kurt's pants and cupped his ass. His voice shifted to a deeper level and it made Kurt jolt down against Blaine's crotch. "I've got you, baby," Blaine responded, "don't let it rush you." Kurt took a deep breath and focused on control. But he should have known that Blaine wouldn't let him off the hook.

"I want to strip you completely naked and enjoy the sight of you, ready and willing, until I'm about to burst."

"Shit."

"Then I will work my way around your body, take you in my mouth and finger you so slowly that you will lose your mind and beg me to go faster; beg me to make you feel, not just here and now, but tomorrow, too."

Kurt whimpered and slipped down on his elbows. Blood rushed through his veins and pushed the pace of his heart beat. He buried his head in the crook of Blaine's neck, clutching the pillow behind them.

"I'll take you so close to the edge that you can almost taste it.

But I will not push you over.

I will hold you back until every cell in your body cries for release."

Kurt's eyelids flickered over dark pupils as he found Blaine's soft lips again. One push, one stroke and he would be done. A small whimper left his mouth when Blaine slipped away again and instead whispered against his neck.

"And when you think your life is over and you're just about to die because you cannot survive the need to come - I will push you over - and come together with you, warm and close."

Kurt lost his grip, panting and painfully hard, and in a split second Blaine flipped him over, landing them on the floor with Kurt spread eagle underneath him. He smiled down at his undone boyfriend.

"Fuck me Blaine," Kurt whispered, hoarse and dark voiced. "I want you to fuck me. I really, really want you to."

"I know," Blaine answered softly and cupped Kurt's cheek. Then he put his mouth close to Kurt's ear; "and I  _will_  fuck you - as soon as you say please."

"Please, Blaine," Kurt moaned.

"Please, Blaine what?"

"Please fuck me."

 


	24. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am pretty excited about this happy-sappy chapter. I hope you will enjoy it :)

Despite his promise to Blaine, Kurt didn't ask for time off first thing in the morning. In fact he didn't ask for that day off at all. He had tried to catch Dubrowski in a good mood, wanting the odds to be in his favor. But that golden moment never appeared and Dubrowski seemed overall stressed out. Luckily, Blaine didn't ask about it when he got home and not a hint of blame was to be found in his beautiful eyes.

The next day Kurt had to accept that the right moment might never come. It had to be done the same way you remove a patch; a quick rip and immediate pain was preferred over a dragged out affair. He approached the director right after lunch with a beating heart and sweaty palms.

"I have something to ask you," he started, "and I hope it won't upset you too much because it's not easy for me to ask."

Dubrowski removed his reading glasses and a frown already showed on his forehead, but when he saw Kurt's worried expression he smiled. "Hey, as long as you don't bail on me and leave Cordelia without Coalan, we'll be fine." Dubrowski laughed at himself. It appeared to be such an unimaginable situation that he was comfortable enough to joke about it.

Kurt, on the other hand, found it hard to share the directors amusement and wavered. "Um … what if Cordelia is only left without Coalan for a single day?" he asked lightly.

Dubrowski's smile vanished as if it had never existed. "I hope that's not what you're asking because that would still be a day too much."

Kurt looked at him unhappily when Dubrowski pressed his lips into a small, hard line. "No way, Kurt, that's out of the question; unless you are dying before Opening Night, it's not an option."

"I'm not dying. I mean I will eventually, but not now." Kurt laughed strained before Dubrowski's stare killed the sound in his throat. He sighed. "Um … you remember Sam, right?"

"I do," Dubrowski confirmed, "and he is doing much better as far as I remember."

"Yes, yes,he is … he is actually doing so well that he can come home from the treatment center this Saturday … and there will be a surprise party for him in LA."

"Oh for gods sake, Kurt!" Dubrowski burst out. "That's only 6 days before Opening Night; not happening!" He pulled his hair and left with an eyeroll.

Kurt watched him leave, feeling utterly lost. This was the exact reason he had been beating around the bush, because no matter how much Dubrowski had changed, this was a lot to ask. He walked back to his dressing room and prepared for the afternoon rehearsals. He wasn't particularly busy calling Blaine and tell him about the outcome of his request. It would break his heart and there was no reason to do it now when he could do it later.

With a heavy heart he changed into his costume and was nearly done when someone knocked on his door. Dubrowski looked at him with furrowed brows when he opened. "I'll think about it, Kurt. I'm not saying you can go - I'm only saying that I'll think about it!"

"Okay," Kurt responded confused as the director turned on his heel and strode down the hallway. He closed the door slowly. It was hard to figure out what his chances really were, but he decided to let the hope flutter, at least for a little while.

Dubrowski was annoyed for the following hours and even though Kurt tried his hardest to help things go smoothly, it was nerve wracking to see the frustrations unfold between them. Costumes came down to see how everything worked out on stage and notes about last minute changes were scribbled down with blushing cheeks and hectic marks. But just as Kurt had given up on the entire issue, Dubrowski called him into his office late in the afternoon.

"Okay, talk to me. How are you supposed to go to LA for just one day?" he grunted.

"Red eye," Kurt answered.

"Which would leave you wrecked for a week afterwards."

"Maybe, but you'll never notice. I promise I'll be ready Sunday by noon and completely devoted to the last days of rehearsal," Kurt said. "Look, I know I'm putting you in a difficult spot with everything we've worked our way through. But I promised Blaine that I would ask, so I'm asking."

Dubrowski got up from his chair and paced the room calmly with his hands deep pocketed. "What am I supposed to do for an entire Saturday without Coalan?" he asked.

"It doesn't have to be without; Mira could step in."

"He won't do it."

"Have you asked?"

"Yes."

Kurt nodded, "Can  _I_  talk to him?"

"Sure." Dubrowski shrugged tired. "Be my guest, if anyone can get him to reconsider, it'll be you."

"And if he is willing to step in?" Kurt held his breath.

"Then you can have both Saturday and Sunday off and with Monday being a day off for all of us it will give you three days to go to LA with Blaine."

Kurt felt overwhelmed with gratitude. This was so much more than he had dared hope for and he couldn't help admiring the man in front of him for working so intensely with his attitude and trying so hard to change. He cleared his throat. "Speaking of Blaine, I think he is ready to talk to you, if you want to."

The expression in Dubrowski's eyes softened slightly. "I would really like that, Kurt. You just say when and where, and I'll show up."

* * *

Kurt looked for Vladimir the minute he stepped out of Dubrowski's office and found him in the middle of a break, with a cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. Vladimir was still more quiet when he was at the theater compared to the times he had hung out with Kurt and Blaine. Kurt sat down next to him.

"I know what you're going to say, Kurt, but I can't do it," Vladimir said, without looking up.

Kurt smiled and felt busted. "I will not push this subject at any cost," he answered, "because I respect your feelings and your decisions. So whatever you will hear from me now is because I want to help you."

"I'm sorry, I really am," Vladimir said quietly. "I know you and Blaine want to take a trip to LA. But I can't do it, not even for you - and that says a lot. I absolutely  _hated_  being pushed into playing Coalan for all the wrong reasons, and that has not changed."

"I know you suffered during that horrible time, just as much as I did," Kurt stated, "but it doesn't have to be the end of your theater experience. When I discussed this with Blaine he said something that I've thought a lot about ever since." Vladimir side eyed him; still on the defense, but he was listening. "Mira, you're in this process right now, where you have to make some major decisions about your future," Kurt continued. "But there is a huge risk you might make the wrong choice about a theater career because your last experience on stage was so bad. Your only option to turn that around, is giving it another go. And this time it will be in a positive atmosphere, among people who support you. And I promise you that it will be a completely new experience. It doesn't give you a guarantee that you will choose a theater career, maybe life takes you down a different road, but it  _will_  mean that you at least know for real what you're walking away from."

"Kurt, in this constellation, among these people, I will always be Dubrowski's nephew, the guy who tried to steal your part," Vladimir reminded him.

Kurt shook his head. "As far as the cast and crew are concerned I don't think you're that person anymore. But I'll talk to people, ask them to support you, tell them how much I believe in you and that you're doing me and Blaine a huge favor." Kurt could see Vladimir considering his options.

"I've forgotten a lot of lines anyway and I haven't rehearsed the songs since you returned."

Kurt smiled. "Look, we still have three days to rehearse and I'll help you. We can work after hours and I promise I'll get you ready."

"You would? That's a lot of extra work for you."

"Mira, it's so important to move on from a defeat with your head held high. I cannot count the times I've had to do that. It's not easy, but it's the only way you can prove once and for all that you're much tougher than they had ever imagined when they made up their mind about you in the first place."

"Do you really think I can do it - or are you that desperate to go to LA?" Vladimir joked, with the first smile since they started talking.

Kurt's eyes softened. "I really do want to go on this trip with Blaine, but I've seen you on stage, Mira, you've got the talent and you've grown so much as a person within these few weeks. Think of all the changes that have happened, especially between you and your uncle. He will be a source of support from now on instead of an endless stream of high expectations."

Vladimir nodded. "At least that's a change I'd never thought I'd see."

"Me neither," Kurt admitted, "but your uncle is moving on after a defeat too and he has certainly turned out to be so much more than I thought he'd ever be. If he can do it, so can you."

"And you promise you'll help?"

"Of course!"

Vladimir bit his bottom lip and finally gave in. "Okay, I'll give it a second chance."

"You won't regret it," Kurt said happily and dragged his young friend in for a hug. "I promise."

"Yeah, yeah," Vladimir smirked, "hope you and Blaine will have a nice trip."

* * *

Blaine was too happy and jittery to fall asleep on the plane. What a change of scenery compared to the last time he had been headed to LA. Instead of anxiety and uncertainty, there was victory and joy. He couldn't wait to see Sam again and make absolutely sure that his friend was okay. The last couple of days had almost been too good to be true and it was hard to believe that Joseph wouldn't pop up like a troll in a box any minute, trying to snatch Sam out of their hands. If it had been up to Blaine he would have brought Mercedes and Sam back to New York this very Monday. But of course practical matters made that impossible. He leaned his head against Kurt's shoulder and sighed satisfied when Kurt kissed his hair and dragged him closer. "This will be an amazing weekend,right?" he asked.

"It will be the best," Kurt assured softly.

They had decided to rent a car and book a hotel room instead of crashing at Artie's house as they had been offered. This way they were free to come and go as they pleased; and with an early flight back Monday morning, they wouldn't have to bother anyone.

They checked in to their room and crashed on the king sized bed for a couple of hours, feeling a bit more alive when they drove off to the location Mercedes had given them for the party. It turned out to be the most beautiful spot on a secluded beach and the fresh air from the ocean was welcoming after a fairly warm day for the two New Yorkers. Puck, Artie, Santana and Quinn were already there, trying to decide how to organize the setup. A huge campfire was established on the beach with big tree chunks circled around the fireplace.

Soon Finn and Rachel joined them. They had arrived in LA the day before because Rachel was on the lookout for an LA based manager.

Quinn made sure to outsource the chores and no one questioned her decisions. Blaine and Puck were to set up the fire and Kurt was in charge of the picnic tables for food, drinks and various kind of refills.

"One hour before the guest of honor arrives," Quinn shouted after a while. "I'm picking up more folks, now don't slack while I'm gone."

"No Ma'am," Puck shouted back with a grin and watched her go "I love it when she's bossy," he mumbled happily.

Nobody was slacking of course and within the next half an hour things started to look nice and well put together; and the atmosphere was soon loaded with anticipation and friendly banter.

"Have you talked to Rachel?" Blaine asked Kurt as he closely watched Rachel and Finn make salad and mix drinks together. Kurt followed Blaine's stare.

"I have," he answered with a lopsided smile.

"And?" Blaine asked curiously.

"She claims that they've only kissed."

Blaine narrowed in on the couple. Rachel tossed her hair around and chuckled at something Finn had whispered to her. Whenever they moved around each other Finn stroked her back, and Rachel couldn't talk to him without putting her hand on his arm. They were perfectly comfortable and relaxed around each other.

"There is no way they've just kissed," Blaine stated as a matter of fact.

"My thoughts exactly," Kurt agreed. "Look at them, they're practically glowing."

Blaine side-eyed Kurt with an arched eyebrow.

"Yes, I know, I know," Kurt gasped with an eyeroll. "I have a hard time turning down the glow myself." His dimple showed. "But that's not my fault, that's yours!"

"Says Mr. you-smell-so-good-baby," Blaine mocked.

"That's hardly my fault either."

Blaine gave him a peck on the lips. "Love you."

"Love you, too." Kurt said and lowered his eyes to Blaine's lips.

"No, no - back to Berry and Hudson," Blaine said with a squint. "Do you think it'll work?"

Kurt shrugged. "I actually think it could. I mean  _we_  work, right? Even though I thought I'd blown it forever just a few years ago."

"I'm sorry to interrupt this very intimate moment you guys obviously are having here," Santana barged in from behind, "but we need help with the barbecue grill, so get your cute asses moving and go help Mike and Puck."

"Do you really think I have a cute ass, Tana?" Blaine said happily and tried to take a look at his own behind.

"You're ruining the moment, Blainers!" Santana huffed out.

"Wait, did you say Mike?" Kurt asked.

"Yep."

"As in Mike Chang?"

"The one and only."

"I can't believe he made it!" Blaine said.

"I think he and Tina flew together from London," Santana explained.

"As in?"

"Nope! She answered almost before the question was asked. "Now get going guys."

Kurt and Blaine followed her in a hurry and were happily reunited with Mike and Tina; until Santana lost her patience and barked out more orders.

Quinn got back just as Puck, Blaine and Mike disappeared with the barbecue grill and Kurt decided to offer Artie a ride on his back; just to show he wasn't slacking. The wheelchair was impossible to get going in all the sand anyway.

"I'm the king of the world," Artie shouted and stretched out his arms, making Quinn laugh out loud behind them.

"I bet," Kurt grumbled and staggered forward in the sliding sand. "But you're definitely a heavier king than the prince you were back in high school."

"Could be, but I was never crowned a queen," Artie pointed out.

"Oh shut up," Kurt grinned and started running with Artie, making him bounce up and down on his back until they both teared up in giggles.

The last one to join the surprise party was Brittany. She came wearing one of her breezy dresses and a big summer hat, looking much more comfortable than the last time Kurt had seen her. Santana was the first one to greet her and soon the big Brittany smile was as radiant and relaxed as it used to be when she fell into hugs and smiles around her.

* * *

"Do we really have to do this, Cedes," Sam sighed. He was tired to the bones after an emotionally exhausting day, saying goodbye to the staff and a few friends from the center. Even though his inner healing mainly had been helped by the incredible effort his friends from McKinley High had pulled together, it was still the place that had given him strategies to handle life outside the safety of the center.

Mercedes, who was driving him home, chuckled for some unknown reason. "It will not be a long walk," she promised. "We have to be careful with your leg now the cast is off, but the fresh air and the open space, will do you good."

Jackpot jumped in circles in the back seat, sensing that something nice was about to happen. Sam side eyed his cute four legged friend. "I guess I'm outnumbered," he mumbled and kissed Mercedes on her cheek.

They stopped by a beach he had never been to before and with the blue sky stretching out above the horizon he decided to enjoy the walk despite his tiredness. The smell of campfire was sensed in the air as soon as they stepped out of the car and Sam took a deep breath, embracing life and the sensation of freedom. He turned around and stretched out his arm for Mercedes and hand in hand they walked through a low vegetation of bushes before they hit the sand and a curved shore stretched out in front of them. His eyes were soon drawn to a group of people further down the beach, having a good time around the campfire he'd smelled before, but it wasn't until one of them happily shouted his name that he realized he knew these people. The second he was spotted, the entire company started jumping up and down, screaming a very unorganized "surprise".

"I cannot believe this," Sam said in disbelief. "How did you … how can everybody be here?"

"It's all for you baby," Mercedes said with her melodic voice, thrilled about his reaction.

Sam limped ahead as fast as he could while Jackpot ran back and forth between his owner and the group of very interesting people that was making a lot of lovely noise.

It only felt like a couple of steps before he got completely surrounded by people who had helped him through his life's biggest crises; and he couldn't remember ever being so happy and grateful.

Blaine followed Sam's every move with the biggest smile on his face. They had hugged for a long time without needing a lot of big words. Their friendship was in sync and Sam had accepted Blaine's perception of him as an equal. They were alike in a lot of areas. They both expected at lot from themselves, while being prepared to give their lives to people they loved. Nothing is harder than to forgive yourself and maybe Blaine understood Sam's struggle about that matter better than anyone else.

Dinner was being made in the midst of a wonderful chaos of friends being united. Some were still to this day, a part of each other's lives, while others had to pick up the connection from the graduation at McKinley High.

Sam had been placed on a stool by the barbecue grill together with Puck, flipping what smelled an awful lot like burned meat. Blaine chuckled by himself; patience was not Sam and Puck's strongest sides, but they were having the time of their lives, so who cared that the meat was darker than it was supposed to be.

When Blaine was sure Sam had everything he needed, he took some time with Mercedes. She had become just as dear to him as Sam was and for a short while they dwelled on the last two months until the conversation headed into the future instead. They talked about New York and the loft, and what kind of options she and Sam would have, finding jobs in the big city. Sam was obviously going to join the band, but Blaine knew it wouldn't be enough of an income. Mercedes had a few connections she would seek out for herself. She still dreamed about making an album, but a plus sized, black woman who wouldn't compromise on her music was a challenge most producers had turned down so far. Blaine envied her integrity. She was wholesome in a way he wish he could be too, but even with all that going on she listened carefully to his encouragements and his advice.

After half an hour the dinner was ready and a fantastic meal of burned burgers and salad with sand in it was consumed. And in all honesty it felt like one of Blaine's best meals in a long time, because the company was so exquisite.

With stuffed tummies and the glow from the fire reflecting in happy faces, the atmosphere got more relaxed around the fireplace. People enjoyed each other's company to the view of the beautiful sun, changing slightly from a golden color to a more orange tone; and in the beauty of this special moment Sam suddenly got up and looked at his friends, until they all got quiet and paid attention to him with pride and wide smiles. He pocketed his hands and a shy look overtook him.

"I'll probably regret this at some point because I'm way too emotional to make sense. But I'll still try to tell you guys how much you mean to me so please forgive me if it gets messy and out of context." He took a deep breath. "I will never forget what any of you have done for me these past two months and sometimes it's hard to owe you guys so much. But Brian Fay, of all people, made me promise to do something important with my life and that's the only way I can pay my debt back, by picking up the pieces and go on from here."

People cheered and applauded around the fire.

Sam watched his friends individually until his stare lingered at his two LA bound friends. He smiled. "Puck and Artie, because of you the memories of my time in LA will not all be a nightmare," he said. "Thank you for being amazing bros all the way through; for gaming nights, concerts, night hikes, which could have been a problem with Artie in a wheelchair, but never was, because that's what we are when we're together."

Artie laughed as if the memory played out in front of him. "I will not say it was a pleasant hike, but it sure was fun," he responded.

"You were the one who begged us to go!" Puck clarified.

Artie shook his head. "It was Sam the man."

Sam shrugged. "You were on the football team so I thought, why not?"

"Yeah, why not?" Artie repeated, smiling.

Sam nodded and got back on track. "I will never forget that the two of you drove all the way to San Fran to pick up my siblings when they wanted to visit their lost brother. And I will always be grateful that you had the guts to confront Joseph, when I wasn't capable of doing it myself." He blinked. "The hardest part about leaving LA, is leaving you."

Puck had to look down and Artie cleared his throat. Of all the friendships emerged from the old Glee Club this was the most unexpected to Blaine. But he didn't question it for a second. He had seen with his own eyes how strong a team Puck and Artie were together.

When Sam moved on in his speech to save his LA bros from further embarrassment, his eyes caught Finn and Rachel. They were sitting next to each other, smiling peacefully at him. "For the two of you," he said, "I will always be grateful for bringing music back into my life." He smirked. "The rest of you may not know this but when Rachel and Finn came to visit me the first time Rachel insisted on singing something for me."

A few escaped giggles were heard and it didn't pass Rachel by. "Like you guys expected anything else," she laughed in self defense.

"I was  _not_  in the mood for a song," Sam added boyishly, "but,Rachel … when you sang "Forgiveness" by Matthew West, it hit me to the core like no other song had ever done. The music tore me apart and the words had never been more true than they were that afternoon. Music was like meeting a long lost friend that I had abandoned for too long. That song mattered more to me than I'll ever be able to explain, Rachel. I have it on my playlist now and I listen to it when I'm being too hard on myself."

"Thank you so much, Sam," Rachel said and blushed as she fiddled with her necklace.

"The next time Finn came around, he had bought me a guitar," Sam continued. "My old one got wrecked in one of those moldy places I had lived in. To Finn's disappointment I didn't feel like playing right away; but later that night, after everybody was gone, the guitar kept staring at me with longing strings from the corner of my room and I had to give in. I didn't stop playing until my fingers were literally bleeding," Sam recalled laughing.

Finn sent him a big boyish smile in return. "Happy to hear it, dude," he said. "I knew if I couldn't persuade you, the guitar would."

"It was a smart move, Finn. It seems like you knew me better than I knew myself at the time." Sam said as he shifted his weight lightly between his feet, trying to take some pressure off of the bad leg. He let out a long sigh; "this is going to take a while, guys, but I hope you'll be patient with me."

"Go preach it brother," Santana hallowed, "we have all night."

Sam tilted his head teasingly. "Okay, I might as well say something to  _you_  then."

Santana's bold smile faltered. "Oh god no," she moaned. "That was not my point at all, and don't you dare make it sappy, Evans, not in public at least."

"I'll make it any way I want to, Tana, this is my surprise party!" Sam paused, suddenly wringing his hands as he searched for the right words to say. "Tana, you found me in a terrible state. I've often thought about what had happened, if you had stepped into my room an hour later. I would probably have sucked up all the pain and not told anyone a word about my troubles. But you caught me off guard, and you refused to let go until I'd told you the truth." He smiled. "You're more persistent than Jackpot." The dog next to him wagged his tail recognizing the sound of his name. "I broke that day, Tana, and you of all people know it. But you also refused to let me give up. And I don't know what kind of magic you and Quinn worked on Brian and his lawyer, I just know that it worked."

"You don't wanna know either," Santana answered and fanned her watery eyes."

"Probably not," Sam admitted with a small smile. "But thank you, Tana, for all your trips to LA. I know it came with sacrifices for you, too."

He shifted to Quinn. "My beautiful looking lawyer." Quinn shook her head lightly. "We've talked a lot about learning from the mistakes in life until they stop being mistakes and become a part of who we are. My respect for you and for everything you have become is higher than Mount Everest. I hope I one day will rest in what I've become just as much I you. You're wise and intelligent and despite of that I've never felt you look down at me or think less of me one single time."

"And I don't," Quinn assured with teary eyes.

"You're one badass lawyer, Fabray, and I will not be the first one you save."

Puck looked almost as proud as Quinn when Sam continued around the circle. This time his eyes stopped at Mike. "It might not seem like Mike has been able to do a lot, traveling and all," Sam said. "But I'll tell you a little secret that only Cedes know about. Ever since Mike became familiar with my situation he has texted me every single day; and I'm serious, he didn't miss once. For the longest time ever I wasn't able to text him back and I always thought to myself that one day he would be tired of this shit and stop; but he didn't." Sam locked eyes with Mike. "You never expected anything in return, Mike - I could read that from your texts. But I read each and everyone of them and they made a difference even though you couldn't know at the time."

"It's been a pleasure, Sam," Mike commented, "but also hard to be so far away from everything."

"When are you leaving again?" Mercedes asked. "We'd like to spend more time with you if possible."

"Early flight tomorrow," Mike sighed regretful. "But I'll be in New York in about a month. Maybe we can get together then."

"That will be close to Sam's debut concert with the band," Blaine added excited, "in case more of you wanna come."

"IF I'll be ready by then," Sam said in a hurry.

"You will be," Blaine assured mildly.

"Anyway, I still have more people to thank, before I panic a month ahead of time," Sam said, "and one of them is you, Kurt."

"Oh, I thought you'd never get to me," Kurt gushed. He was sitting on a tree stump with Blaine on a blanket in front of him.

"Kurt, thank you for lending Blaine to me." Sam said. "I know you both suffered a great deal being apart and I know stuff got complicated in New York at the same time."

Kurt subtly pulled Blaine a bit closer and placed a gentle kiss on his hair.

"But more than anything I will thank you for something I'd never expected from you." Sam tried to hide the smile sneaking up on him. Kurt shook his head with eyes closed, already knowing where Sam was heading. "I will officially thank you for breaking Big's nose!"

A roar of laughter broke the silence around the campfire and Kurt switched to his gayest show face, waving to the crowd until Blaine bend his head backwards and pulled him down for a victory kiss.

"I once took a punch for you," Sam explained, "back in high school when that Karofsky guy was on your back, remember?"

"I remember."

"I want you to know that I consider us even by now." Kurt laughed. "Which means that next time one of us is in trouble we'll fight together. Deal?"

"I'm in," Kurt answered.

"Okay, I got a lot of things done here," Sam said satisfied. "Next up is Tina!"

She waved apologetic in the air "No, no, no, you don't have to say anything about me, I didn't do anything," she said.

"That's not true," Sam objected."Tina, at some point, must have decided that I probably needed a laugh now and then; so she'd occasionally sent me joke, or one of those little cartoon strips from the papers, you know. One of them cracked me up completely even though I hated myself for it, because I didn't think I deserved to laugh at the time."

Tina frowned, "Which one are you talking about?"

Sam literally blushed. "Um one of the inappropriate ones."

"The first one or the second one?"

"The first one."

Tina blushed too but before long her shoulders shook from suppressed laughter. "Oh my god' Sam, I was sooo drunk when I send you that one." She laughed out loud "I didn't even understand the joke until the next morning and then I couldn't take it back. It was so embarrassing." Now Sam couldn't keep it together either and laughed with her.

"Okay, seriously, will one of you please tell the joke!" Puck burst out, "I feel left out."

"I'm not telling anything, dude." Sam responded.

"Tina?" Puck was getting desperate.

"Don't look at me," Tina laughed. "I was drunk for gods sake."

"Seriously, Evans!" Puck complained.

"I better move on before this develops any further," Sam said in a hurry and found Brittany. She was sitting next to Santana with her arm hooked around Santana's elbow. She had been somewhat quiet throughout the evening, but looked happy and off garde. "Britt, what I wanted to say to you I've already told you in private."

"Here we go again, with only half a story," Puck mumbled.

"I will just add this one thing," Sam continued. "Don't listen to the voices telling you that your heart isn't big enough; especially if that voice comes from inside yourself."

Brittany smiled and leaned her head up against Santana's shoulder. "Thank you, Sam," she whispered.

Sam now closed his eyes and held a deep breath until he let it out through pursed lips. "This one is going to be tough," he said with a shaky voice and narrowed in on Blaine.

Blaine wasn't sure he'd survive whatever Sam had to say to him, but if Sam could do it, so could he.

"Blaine … you were with me at my darkest hours in the hospital," Sam said and looked with care and respect at his dearest friend. "Even when I asked you to leave me behind and did my very best to shut you out, you stayed. I still remember telling you that I would kick you out myself and you answered that you'd like to see me try with a broken leg and all." For the first time a tear ran down Sam's cheek and Blaine couldn't do much but follow. He would do it all over again if he had to. Kurt's strong arms surrounded him from behind and their hands found each other, as the witnessed Sam's determination.

"There was one particular night where my inner demons almost got the better of me and I was so close to giving up altogether that I asked God to make you come to the hospital early. At 5 AM you suddenly sweeped through my door and told me you couldn't sleep, and that you just as well might "not sleep" at the hospital instead of home. You sat by my bedside for hours every day and when you left it was only to be strong for Mercedes when I was being stupid enough to think I could live without her. I can only imagine how exhausted you must have been, and I will never forget you for pushing through, knowing when to support me and when to call me out on my shit. You're the most selfless human being I know, Blaine, and I will never leave you behind or try to shut you out of my life again."

"You'd do the same thing for me, Sam," Blaine said and wiped away his tears with the sleeve of his jersey.

Sam nodded. "In a heartbeat, bro - and I'm glad you know it."

Rachel suddenly snuffled from her seat. "This is just all very, very beautiful."

Tina blew her nose. "I didn't know you had it in you, Sam," she added.

Sam huffed out a tired laugh. "Neither did I," he admitted, "and I'm almost done. He turned around and looked a Mercedes before he took her hand. "Baby, no one knows me better than you. No one can look through my pretence and brave face like you. You calm me down and without saying a word you can convince me that everything will be alright. I cannot count all the times you've just laid close to me, never asking for anything in return even though you knew I would give you the world if you asked. I love you with every fiber in my body. I sometimes say that I don't understand how you can love me - and you alway answer that I don't have to understand, I just have to believe. And ... I do believe, in your love and in you and me."

This time Santana couldn't take it any more. "Sam, honestly, save something for the wedding, will you?" she said with eyes wet.

He smiled boyishly. "I'll always have something to say to this amazing girl and especially if I'll be lucky enough to marry her."

Everybody cheered and laughed when Mercedes dragged Sam down for a kiss.

Sam looked up again with a sheepish expression on his face. "Now I apologize for all the sappiness. I'm sure there's more burned meat on the barbecue grill, so please help yourself. I know Puck brought his guitar and I hope we can jam to a couple of old New Direction tunes or hit some new chords."

The next hours were spent talking, laughter, hugging and singing. Soon Blaine looked around for Kurt and found him chatting with Finn. He snuck up behind his boyfriend and nuzzled his neck. Kurt turned his head and gave him a radiant smile.

"Is it okay if I borrow your brother for awhile," Blaine asked Finn.

"I think he's already yours so technically you don't have to ask," Finn answered and winked to both of them.

Kurt turned around happy when Blaine laced their fingers together and held on tight, trying to hide a secretive smile.

"What do you have in mind?" Kurt asked.

"Just a walk on the beach," Blaine answered innocently. "I mean, look at the sky, the colors will never be more beautiful than they are right now."

Kurt took in the majestic horizon and the reflection from the blue sea brightened his eyes. He leaned in and kissed Blaine. "I love it when you're being a silly romantic, you know that and I cannot believe I almost missed out on this night. Thank you for pushing me to come."

"You're welcome," Blaine said as they started to walk. "I know it was childish to say I wouldn't go without you, but I would have been miserable and I would have missed you the entire time." He searched for the right words. "It's more than the time apart, you know, we'll have to do that now and then; it's just as much about the sharing. To experience a night like this together cannot be replaced by anything. That's what I feel about you more than ever. I want to keep sharing my life with you."

"You have no idea how happy you make me," Kurt answered softly. "To see Sam and Mercedes on a night like this, so strong together after surviving what would have broken up most couples, I keep thinking that they hold the secret of love. To share everything, like you said, and to survive the hardship when it would have been impossible to face it all alone."

Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand. If happiness could be bottled up and saved for a rainy day, he'd done it this very moment. Kurt squeezed back and made sure their shoulders touched as they walked along and left the campfire and their friends behind. The silence following was not a lack of words, it was the mere comfort of just being in the moment, breathing the same air, with minds and hearts in sync. It was healing in every way. Lately Blaine had felt overwhelmed and tired in a way he couldn't quite explain, but Kurt had noticed it and had tried to follow him into those quiet places he needed from time to time.

"It's been crazy, when you think about it," Kurt said with a small laugh after a while. Cooper getting married, Sam caught up in a terrible situation, Dubrowski's version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It's so much sorrow and happiness squeezed together in a short amount of time."

Blaine hummed. "There has been a lot of fun stuff, too."

"Like what?"

"Ally getting pregnant, the makeover you did for Joyce, and … the mile high club." Blaine waited for a reaction with badly hidden anticipation.

Kurt huffed out a laugh, "I'll never forget the latter. Looking back I can't believe we did it in a public bathroom."

Blaine's voice got eager. "But that's the real beauty of it. We didn't do it because it was an amazing place to do it, but because it was funny and daring, like a thing on a bucket list, mocking you until you can say: been there - done that. I love it when we get spontaneous about certain things."

"Blaaaaine!" Kurt said suspiciously.

"What?" Blaine chuckled and turned around, walking backwards in front of Kurt so he could get eye contact.

"We're  _not_  doing in on the beach."

"Nooo, of course not. That wasn't what I had in mind."

Kurt stopped. "But you  _do_  have something in mind. I'd recognize that look from from miles away."

Blaine tilted his head and went for "cute". He had certain tricks up his sleeves when Kurt was about to put up a fight. He stepped closer and let his hands run up and down Kurt's overarms. "I was just … wondering if you had ever tried … skinny dipping."

"Blaine, we are not going to skinny dip," Kurt responded eye rolling.

"Why?"

"Because, because ... the water is cold and because our friends are not that far away. I think I will spare them the sight of the two of us butt naked."

Blaine was only getting started. "First of all, we've just turned a curve which means our friends cannot see us and the water isn't cold if you move around."

"We're not skinny dipping Blaine," Kurt repeated.

"It will be romantic." Blaine lifted an eyebrow. "It will be something to remember for the rest of our lives, Kurt. Even when we're getting old and weird and can't even remember if we've been to the bathroom or not, this will stand."

Kurt laughed. "You're cute and I'll admit that most times you get your way, but I'm not feeling like skinny dipping. I'll remember this night just fine without getting cold and wet."

"Suit yourself, I'm going in," Blaine stated daringly and smiled.

"Blaine, pleeease no."

Blaine just grinned as he pulled off his jersey and his t-shirt. Then he kicked off his shoes and jumped around on one leg struggling with his pants.

"I'm not helping you," Kurt said stubbornly.

Blaine finally got out of his pants, then he made a couple of crazy and sexy stretches and noticed to his own satisfaction how Kurt had to bite his lip not to laugh. He checked the shore on both sides, making sure it was deserted, pulled off his boxers and shouted; "Last man under is a wuss," before he sprinted into the water, making sure his ass was the last thing to be seen from shore.

The water was as refreshingly as he had imagined and he enjoyed the coolness and the muffled sounds under the surface. When he went up for air he could see Kurt getting undressed, too. Blaine grinned when he caught words like "shit" and "I cannot believe you make me do this."

Kurt gasped as he hit the water. "This is no fun at all," he complained, and tried to prevent the water from splashing up on his belly. "I don't see the romance anywhere."

Blaine dived under and showed up right in front of his shivering boyfriend. "Just wait for it baby. Move around, like I told you."

Kurt grabbed his hands. "That's easy for you to say, you never get cold!"

Blaine chuckled. "I do, if you're too far away." He prompted Kurt to keep going until he finally dipped down completely. Kurt started swimming further out with calm strokes as Blaine dived around him like a playful seal, thrilled to have company. When he popped up again in front of Kurt, he was met by a dimpled smile.

"Feeling better?"

Kurt hummed a yes and dragged Blaine into a hug and wrapped his legs around Blaine's waist. They laughed and played around a bit with eyes locked to each other.

"You do realize that there's no way I'm getting hard in this cold water,right?"

Blaine grinned, "I just want to feel you, baby."

Kurt wrapped his body even closer around Blaine and dived into a deep, slow, breath stealing kiss.

"Thank you for this morning by the way", Blaine mumbled against Kurt's salty lips.

"Are we talking about the one before the nap or the one after?"

Blaine hummed. "I'm talking about the one in the shower."

"That wasn't even one," Kurt objected, having a difficult time staying away from Blaine's mouth.

"To me it was."

"Okay, is this one too, then? Kurt asked.

"I can feel your dick and we're naked, that counts a lot in my world."

Kurt sighed happily and let his tongue run over Blaine's lips before he slipped it further into his mouth. Blaine closed his eyes and made room for his expanding heart that could burst any second. "You make me so happy, Kurt."

"You make me happy too, Blaine."

When they kissed again, Blaine let his legs go until they were completely under water. He looked at Kurt through the blurriness of the water and received the cutest smile ever from the most gorgeous Merman he had ever laid eyes on.

Soon they played around again, chasing each other, taking turns boosting each other up in the air - and every time Blaine lifted Kurt into a jump he got lost in his long, lean body, his broad shoulders and his perfectly rounded ass. Skinny dipping was definitely his thing.

When they were finally getting too cold and had to move on, Blaine let Kurt rest on his chest and swam him in backwards, giving them a last sight of the beautiful sunset painting orange and red colors all over the sky.

Close to the shore, barely covered by the water, Kurt looked at Blaine. "Now what?"

Blaine smiled through shivering lips. "Now we run as fast as we can and get dressed in a hurry."

"I just know I'll get sand in my underwear."

"Not necessarily, you just have to, you know, shake them before you pull them all the way up."

"Noted!"

"On the count of three," Blaine said. "Three, two, one, go!"

The two naked men sprinted through the low water and up on the beach, giggling and shaking as they tried to clothe their dripping wet bodies. Finally done they did jumping jacks to get warmer and fixed each others hair to something that would end up messy anyway.

Kurt kissed his boyfriend one more time. "Thank you," he said, "for giving me one of the most romantic moments ever."

Blaine intertwined their fingers as they walked back. "You're welcome."

"You know what? Kurt said as they turned around the curve and saw the campfire in the distant.

"No, what?"

"I have sand in my underwear."


	25. Walk In My Shoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 25 is up and there will be one more chapter to go - then One Of The Good Guys will be wrapped up.
> 
> As I have mentioned before there will be a third story to the Cordelia verse. But more about that next time.
> 
> Hope some of you will take the time to review ;)

The most amazing weekend ever was followed by business as usual. Blaine's band had a gig Wednesday night and Kurt was heading into to the busiest week known to theater, the week leading up to Opening Night. He had been nervous about his return for several reasons. In his vivid imagination a million things could have gone wrong in his absence. Dubrowski could have lost it, Vladimir could have suffered a nervous breakdown, considering his previous experiences, or Victor could have caused a scene just for the fun of it. But Kurt soon learned that he couldn't have been more mistaken when a smiling Dubrowski met him at the door with arms wide open.

"Good to see you," Dubrowski said, seeming a bit too relaxed now that Kurt thought about it and his suspicions rose. He looked around, trying to pick up on something different, but if anything, people behaved like they were excited; busy, but definitely in a good mood. "Is everything alright?" Kurt asked, and switched back to Dubrowski, who had been stopped by a crew member for a quick question.

Dubrowski shot him another smile. "Yes, everything is alright. Mira did an amazing job as Coalan. I've never been more proud of him."

"And the cast?"

"Was very sweet and supportive of him," Dubrowski answered as they walked along. "Oh, and Joyce and the kids have been here everyday. Kevin and Lucy are great in the opening act. We've even added them in a few more scenes. You were right all along, Kurt, they are such great kids and no bother at all."

"But I thought Charlene was taking care of them. Hasn't she been here all weekend?" Kurt asked.

Dubrowski nodded. "She has, but Kevin came up to me after one of their performances on Saturday, asking for feedback. He was worried that you had been too easy on them because you knew them, and he claimed to be big enough to handle the truth." Kurt's jaw dropped slightly as Dubrowski continued. "And you know me, I couldn't turn down someone begging for direction. So we tightened their chase around the dancers and gave it a notch up. I think you will be really pleased with how it has turned out."

"I guess I should go away more often," Kurt mumbled.

Dubrowski laughed wholeheartedly. "No, no, I'm happy you are back. Mira did great, but … you are the true Coalan."

After that overwhelming experience Kurt needed a minute, but he decided to keep his eyes and ears open because something had changed. He was not unhappy about the pleasant atmosphere that seemed to grow from the walls now, he just couldn't shake the feeling that something specific had caused the change.

He didn't have to wait for long. In the middle of the afternoon, after Kevin and Lucy had checked in together with Joyce, certain things became painstakingly clear and he came to wish from the bottom of his heart that Dubrowski's smile and happy behavior had been caused by just about anything else. Joyce and Dubrowski were obviously talking  _a lot_  with each other and the Russian charm seemed to work on Joyce, who was laughing a bit too much for Kurt's liking. Yes, Dub had a dry sense of humor and Joyce was a pretty easy going person, but considering how awkward Dubrowski had felt when he first met her, there was something alarming about the entire situation.

Kurt's concern grew throughout the next couple of days until he had to accept the inevitable; Dubrowski and Joyce liked each other and that was a  _disaster_. This would  _not_  go down with Blaine, at all! Kurt had promised him that Dub wouldn't be a part of their lives and if this developed into a  _thing_ , that promise would be nearly impossible to keep. So he finally decided to test the waters with Joyce; discreetly of course. He found her sitting in one of the theater seats, captivated by Dubrowski's direction on stage. He dropped down next to her with an innocent look and she gave him a radiating smile in return. "You know you don't have to sit here every afternoon," he tried. "I'll look out for the kids if you need to be elsewhere."

"Are you kidding me?" Joyce said and took a sip of the latte to-go she kept between her hands. Probably a courtesy from Dubrowski. "I wouldn't miss this for the world. I think Kevin and I are hooked on the stage life for good." Her expression softened "It's just so amazing to see him up there and to sense the atmosphere."

"To see Kevin up there, right?" Kurt clarified with a nervous laugh.

"I can't thank you enough for giving Kevin this opportunity," Joyce continued, without picking up on the things asked between the lines.

"Oh, don't think about it," Kurt said, wishing he had never gotten the idea in the first place. He planned his next move carefully. "So, you never told me how that fabulous date of yours worked out. Did your dress do the magic?"

She pointed her lips "Well the dressed worked out amazingly, Kurt. I felt like a New York lady and I'll admit that dressing right gives me confidence."

"I'm glad to hear that. So I bet he was smitten, this mystery guy." Kurt winked dramatically.

"I think he was and the date was okay in the beginning, but throughout the evening I started having second thoughts, you know. It was really weird, but when we said goodnight to each other I realized that I couldn't really picture him with Kevin."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Joyce lingered. "I guess it was more a hunch than anything specific, but … this has to be right for Kevin, too. I owe him that after everything he has been through."

"But you can't really know until you have seen him around Kevin, can you?"

"Maybe not, but I refuse to put Kevin through that kind of test. He would know right away what was going on anyway. "

"And he is not ready to share you with anybody," Kurt finished.

She let her finger follow the rim of the foam cup in her hand. "Oh yes, he has actually given me permission, which only proves that he trusts me to get it right. I have to go with my gut feeling here, Kurt. It's all I have. If it doesn't feel right, it will never be right." Her eyes wandered back to the stage. "I'm not in a hurry, but thanks to you and Blaine I feel ready to at least consider finding someone to share my life with."

"Great," Kurt said with a too wide smile. "I'm ... so happy … to help."

She took his hand and squeezed. "I know you and Blaine are looking out for me and Kevin and it means the world. I want you to know that."

"We can't help it," Kurt said. "But just so we are clear, both Blaine and I have to approve of the guy you let into your life."

She chuckled. "You're so sweet. I should have guessed there was a catch to my friendship with the two of you."

Kurt's laugh had been strained, but Joyce hadn't noticed. He had to warn Blaine about this eventually. But he wouldn't do it until it was absolutely necessary - and then all hell would break loose.

* * *

Blaine was more nervous than usual before a gig. Josh had been in contact with a minor record label who was on the lookout for an indie band. And tonight one the guys from the label was told to be in the audience. This could be a dream come true, or a complete disaster. And being the front guy of the band put a lot of pressure on his shoulders.

"Hey baby," Kurt said from behind and captured him in his arms. Blaine held on tight and exhaled. "You'll be great," Kurt said reassuringly. "The crowd is building out there just waiting for you to sing your heart out."

"Do you think the guy from the record label is there yet?"

"None of us know what he looks like and guys like that are busy. It's likely he'll just pop in and only stay for a single set or a few songs. "

"Which means I should be on the lookout for somebody leaving; great!"

Kurt put his hands on Blaine's shoulders and looked at him with his blue, calming eyes. "This is an opportunity. A good one, but not the only one. If it doesn't work out it's just because you're not what he's looking for at the moment. You guys are amazing and someone is bound to catch interest."

Blaine felt some of the pressure ease up. "Just another concert, right?" he said.

"Just another concert" Kurt repeated, "... or almost," he added with a nervous laugh.

"Kuurt?"

"Um, it's just that Mira showed up and he sort of … brought, Dub."

"Why?"

Kurt rose one of his shoulders with hands deeply pocketed and Blaine instantly knew he was trying to charm his way around something unpleasant. "Dub wanted to hear your band and I thought you might as well talk to him now he's here."

"God no, Kurt! He can't armbush me like that. I agreed to a meeting at a cafe, not have something like this hanging over my head just before a performance."

"I know, and Dub don't expect anything from you tonight. I just … I thought it was an opportunity to get it out of the way, that's all. If you'd rather wait, that's what we'll do. But I wanted you to know that he's in the audience at least."

Blaine sighed. This was not what he needed. He had to be mentally prepared for things like this, but of course it made sense. "Look, I'm not doing it before the show, and I might be too tired after, but maybe."

"That's all I'm asking."

"And just so we are clear," Blaine added, "if he is sitting down there sulking or looking bored while I'm singing I will personally give him a lap-dance and run my fingers through his hair!" Kurt pressed his lips tight together."And that was not a dare, Hummel!"

"Of course not," Kurt assured. "But it sure looked funny in my head." Blaine rolled his eyes until Kurt's lips covered his mouth. "You know I love you, right?" Kurt whispered into the kiss.

"I know. And I love you, too," Blaine answered. "But you better have my cold beer waiting if I'm going to listen to the guy."

"Don't I always?" Kurt asked and moved his hands to Blaine's ass. "Now go and do your magic, gorgeous man."

When Kurt left and disappeared into the audience, Blaine felt he could conquer the world again. And he passed on the confidence to the rest of the band. "Let's forget everything going on in the audience tonight," he said. "We are who we are and we love to rock out and have a good time, right?" They all did their ritual adrenalin exercises, jumping and pumping each other up.

"We're ready," Blaine said, and cued the presenter of the evening.

Either Kurt had warned Dubrowski about the lap-dance, or the guy actually enjoyed the music. First it was nothing but a tapping foot, but when Kurt and Mira couldn't stay seated anymore it rubbed off on Dubrowski. In a surprising way it set Blaine free to disappear into the music and find that perfect synergy with the rest of the band. The numbers melted into each other connecting the first set like a chain of music and when he once again sat alone by the piano, singing for Kurt at the beginning of second set, he forgot about the record label and the pressure he had felt before the concert. He felt alive and loved. What more could anyone ask for.

With the last song still resonating in the bar, the band headed backstage for a short break before they returned to hang out with the NY fans. A lot of them came every time they played and Blaine wanted to make it worth their while. But eventually he had to head down to the table where Kurt was waiting with Dubrowski and Mira.

Dubrowski got up the moment he saw Blaine and the first thing Blaine noticed was the significant change in the man's eyes. The condescending expression was replaced with a more serious but open look. The director stretched out his hand. "Thank you so much for agreeing to this," he said.

Blaine shook his hand. He was still pumped with adrenalin and the conversation lying ahead didn't feel so daunting anymore. "Of course and you're welcome," he answered and sat down next to Kurt. "I hadn't expected to see you at one of my gigs, though."

Dubrowski put a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Mira never shuts up about your band and I have to admit the experience was empowering."

"You think?" Blaine said. "Wow, thank you."

The Russian man smiled carefully. "You compose for the band the same way you have composed for Cordelia."

Blaine got curious. They were just breaking ice and he refused to be buttered up, but whatever he thought of Dubrowski as a person, he respected the man's professional opinion. And for that he would keep an open mind. "You have to elaborate here," he said.

Dubrowski leaned slightly forward and eager emerged in his gray eyes. "You fuse genres together in a very interesting way. Whenever I think I know where you're going with your harmonies, you surprise me. And it's not in a constructed way like when music turns into math. It's much more … organic."

Blaine hummed, "I've never thought about it that way, I just … go where it feels right."

"I thought so," Dubrowski said "And to me that's the difference between being talented and being gifted. The way you compose is a gift and that's what I love so much about Cordelia."

"Damn it, I thought it was my brilliant writing," Kurt complained and made Blaine snort.

"You know how I feel about you, Hummel," Dubrowski said and winked.

"Yes, unfortunately," Kurt mumbled.

It was surreal to experience the friendly banter between Kurt and Dub, but it felt honest enough to Blaine - and it dawned on him that Kurt must have protected him from the fact that Dub had become a friend. Why hadn't he seen that?

Across the table Dubrowski had gotten quiet and when Blaine caught his eyes the seriousness had reappeared. "Blaine … there are things I've been wanting to tell you for a such a long time. I would have done it sooner, but I respect that you had to be ready to hear what I had to say." Blaine held his stare, openhearted and curious. "I'm terribly sorry for all the pain I've caused you and Kurt," Dub continued, "and the phone call I made to you that night is the stupidest thing I've ever done." He paused, "maybe the second stupidest thing if I'm completely honest. I carry a lot of regrets with me in my life, but this has haunted me ever since."

Blaine shifted in his chair and glanced at Vladimir. He was not sure how much the young man had been told - and so far the matter of the pictures and the phone call had been kept between the three of them. Dubrowski picked up on his concern. "Mira knows," he said, "there are no secrets between us any more. That's a promise I have given him." He paused. "I don't expect you to forgive me right away … but it's very important for me to ask for your forgiveness because ... I  _am_  truly sorry Blaine."

Blaine closed his eyes and searched for the right words to say. "To forgive you is the easy part, actually," he then said "The hard part is  _trusting_  you. There are ... a lot of things I don't understand, but I  _do_  know that if this falls apart, Kurt will be the one going down. Whatever hesitation I've had about your "brand" new personality has been connected to him. For me it's about more than your stunt with the pictures, it's about how you treated Kurt from the very beginning. He took a lot more shit from you than I have seen him take from anyone else. For this to make sense I have to believe that a part of you respected and recognized Kurt's talent from the beginning and that you honestly will make it up to him. And not because you're under pressure, but because he matters for the production, for the cast and crew, and for Mira. I'm trying to protect him; that's all." Blaine felt Kurt's hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly in recognition.

Dubrowski's eyes softened. "You have no idea how much I respect Kurt and how much I admire the relationship the two of you have. And yes, I realize things might seem odd from the outside, Blaine. But you can ask me anything and I will do my best to answer you truthfully. This isn't about a handshake and then we're all good. There is a lot more at stake for me, too."

"The way I see it and the way Kurt has explained it you turned your behavior around within a weekend? I know you were under pressure for losing your job, but if it's something you can just switch on and off as you please ... it seems so manipulative."

"It's not something you can change in a split second," Dubrowski explained with a saddened expression; "and Kurt is my witness that it hasn't been that way either. That Friday Kurt and I came to an understanding, he said something that scared me to death. He pointed out that I could lose Vladimir and his mom to my bitterness and my stubborn behavior. And as stupid as it might seem I'd never thought about the hurt I caused the two people I love more than anything." His voice deepened. "If I lost them ... I would have nothing. I would be nothing. That weekend I faced the demons that have been haunting me for the last five years, and it was the hardest thing I've  _ever_  done. But I  _had_  to do it and I'm still doing it. Every day it takes all my determination to keep moving in the right direction. I know who I've been the past years, but I also know that there is another version of me somewhere. I just left him in Russia."

"Do you ever miss Russia?" Kurt asked.

"I miss the Opera," Dubrowski answered. "Ever since I was a kid I wanted to work there. My parents took me once. I must have been 6 years old or maybe even younger. But I remember being completely captivated by this fantasy world of music and acting, and I instantly knew that's what I wanted to do when I grew up. So I worked hard, I took all kinds of music lessons, I learned to play most classical instruments and travelled around the world to get the right education, because I wouldn't settle for anything less than the Opera. When I was finally hired I was the youngest director they'd ever had; 33 years old."

"Wow," Blaine said, "that's really extraordinary."

Dubrowski nodded. "I loved every day in that building, the hard work and the reward when a production was ready. I loved Opening Nights and the magical moment when the orchestra was fine tuning their instruments and you could feel the anticipation building from the audience. And then the rush of adrenaline when it was all over and another production had succeeded."

Blaine knew that feeling more than anyone. But if this was the Russian version of Dubrowski then what had happened?

Dubrowski looked at him as if he could read his mind and for a moment it felt like he let Blaine into the most fragile place inside of himself. "There was this beautiful girl," he continued without blinking. "Her name was Maria. She played second violin and could make that instrument cry like it was its last moment on earth. Her hair was long and dark, almost down to her waist. The other female members of the orchestra would always put up their hair when we performed, to look neat and to keep the hair out of their eyesight. But Maria kept it down and it would wave around her shoulders when she played, passionately and with character. I was not the only admirerer of course. A lot of men looked her way," he got lost in memories, "but for some unexplainable reason, I was the one she chose. We got married a year later and I wrote her a symphony that the orchestra performed at our wedding."

"Beautiful," Blaine mumbled.

"Two years later we had a son, a beautiful baby boy looking so much like his mother. Vi called him Nicolay and he was such a bundle of joy. Maria wanted to return to the orchestra as soon as possible after she had given birth, so we brought him to rehearsals; and later, when he got older, we hired a nanny to look after him at the opera. It was almost too much happiness to bear and it turned out it couldn't last either."

"What happened?" Kurt asked quietly.

"I overheard a conversation that wasn't meant for my ears. It turned out that Maria was having an affair with another musician from the orchestra. And not just a brief thing, but a relationship that had been going on for years. Everybody knew about it, except me. I was the joke they all talked about, out of amusement or pity; I don't know. But not once had anybody had the decency to tell me what was happening right in front of me." Deep furrows were now carved into the directors forehead. "I was furious and deeply hurt of course and I confronted Maria about the rumor that night when we got home. She broke down and confessed everything after Nicolay had been tucked in, and it wasn't just the infidelity she admitted, she also told me that Nicolay wasn't even mine." Dubrowski's heart could almost been heard breaking all over again as he continued, determined to share the rest of his story. "I cried through the entire night and wouldn't let Maria touch me. I was feeling physically sick by the thought of never holding Nicholay again or be  _allowed_  to be his father. I could have survived a divorce and the loss of her love, but I couldn't stay close to Nicolay, knowing he wasn't mine to hold or to say goodnight to, without falling to pieces. So I fled. I came here, trying to cut out Nicolay from my heart." Dubrowski fiddled with his glass. "The thing is ... he always seems to find his way back in; even after all these years."

"I am so so sorry to hear this," Blaine said, feeling nothing but compassion for the man sitting in front of him, despite all his concerns about sincerity just moments ago. How old was he?"

"Three years," Dub answered, "which means that today he's only a few years younger than Kevin."

"Did you ever think about how much that little guy must have missed you," Blaine asked.

"I did," Dubrowski said with tears in his eyes, "but my heart was fighting to stay alive, to keep beating, and I kept telling myself that he was so young he would forget eventually. Besides, he had another father who was more right for him."

"Who says he was more right," Blaine asked gently. "I mean, how can someone have a son and not want to claim him?"

"Maria told him not to."

"And what's her side of the story," Blaine kept pushing.

"She claimed that she still loved me, but someone close to her confessed that it was the perks of being the director's wife that had made her indecisive."

"Dub I'm so sorry to hear this," Kurt said heartbroken. "Have you ever thought about going back and having some sort of … closure?"

"Of course and especially lately, but up until now I have been terrified of the thought alone."

"I'll go with you," Vladimir said promptly. "I've already told you that you don't have to face this alone. We'll go when Cordelia has finished it's run. I would love to see the Opera and when we come back you can help me apply to NYADA."

"Maybe Mira. Maybe," Dubrowski answered.

Everyone around the table got lost in their own thoughts for a moment, but Blaine was the first one to break the silence. All things were not said and as much as this side of Dub's story wasn't any of his business, it touched some of his own bruises in the relationship with his dad. "Do you know how Maria is now?" he asked. "I mean did she get together with that guy and what about Nicolay?"

"I've only heard bits and pieces," Dubrowski admitted. "I know they got married a few months after I left but I've also heard that they got divorced again."

"Look, Kurt and I both carry significant stories about a parent missing in our lives and things like that stick with you. Kurt lost his mother when he was 8, and I've grown up with a father that was emotionally estranged to me up until two years ago. We would both have given anything to have that parent with us through our adolescence. I'm sure Mira feels the same way about his dad. And even though Nicolay isn't your biological son, you're still a part of his history. Don't ever think less of yourself than that. This will hurt like an open wound until you get closure. Take it from someone who has walked in those shoes. I'm not saying it has to be now. Only you know when it's time. I'm not trying to make you feel bad either, I just beg you to listen to your heart."

Dubrowski looked at Blaine for a long lingering moment before he blinked a tear away.

"I'm sorry if I'm out of line here," Blaine said unhappy. "But matters like this have always been close to my heart."

"Don't be sorry and no, you're not out of line. It's just that in all these years I've never thought Nicolay could need anything from me anymore." Dubrowski said.

"Maybe he just needs to know that you exist," Kurt added, "and that you didn't leave because you didn't love him."

"But I can't go back permanently. My life is in New York now, with Mira and my sister."

"And that's completely fair," Blaine assured. "But wouldn't it be amazing to go back once in awhile or just keep connected with him through Skype or social media. You can get to follow his upbringing whatever way you and Maria agree on - and how Nicolay wants it."

"You make it sound so easy."

"That's my mistake," Blaine said with a knowing smile. "Because it isn't. But I promise you that it will be worth it."

* * *

It was 4 am before Blaine carefully lifted the sheets to crawl into bed next to a sleeping Kurt. He had stayed behind at the bar because the guy from the record label suddenly had returned - and with the gear still left to pack he had prompted Kurt to go home and get some sleep.

Kurt turned around and found his favorite place in Blaine's arms. "How did it go?" he asked with a rusty voice.

Kurt got up on one elbow, he hair already messy and cute. "That's amazing!"

"I know, right?" Blaine said happily before he dragged his sleepy boyfriend into his arms again. "But we'll talk about it tomorrow."

Kurt hummed in satisfaction. "I'm so ridiculously proud of you and everything you've managed to do tonight."

Blaine smiled in the darkness. "Thanks for telling me that."


	26. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day to celebrate! Finally up with the last chapter to One Of The Good Guys.
> 
> I know that I took a chance with this second story of the Cordelia verse. A lot of people fell in love with A Song For Cordelia and that adds expectations to a second part. I may have lost followers because Sam became a huge part of the story, but I still hope that I have made him justice, because I see him so differently that canon Sam. Finishing up I feel I have told the story that was in my heart about how unexpected life can be and how important it is to have friends around you that will pick you up no matter what. It's also been a story about second chances - and at the end of the day we all need them.
> 
> But it ain't over till the fat lady sings. There will be a third story to the Cordelia verse. It will be very Klaine focused with a six months time gap. I'm already on it and will post the first chapter as soon as I can. So follow me to make sure you will get an update when the story begins.
> 
> As this is the last chapter, reviews would be lovely. What did you love? What did you hate? What did you care less about?
> 
> For those of you who loved "Never Say Never" can I say that I have a new CrissColfer story comming up as well. It's not connected in any way to NSN - it's more AU, but I think you'll like it anyway. So stay tuned.
> 
> See you around

Kurt only had a few rituals before going on stage. He always wore the old wrist watch his dad had given him the night his mother died. The watch had belonged to his grandad and even though it wasn't working anymore, it represented the years he'd had with his mother. Time should be treasured, especially the moments that were most important. The watch had also been on his wrist the night Blaine had sung "How wonderful life is" and asked him to be his boyfriend for the second time.

Another ritual was a vocal warm up to Defying Gravity because that song contained his every being and because he knew he could reach the top note just as well as Rachel Berry.

The third ritual was walking around backstage and checking up on his fellow castmates. Maybe it was his caretaker gene kicking in from being alone with his dad when he grew up, or maybe he just felt responsible for a production overall.

He put on his first costume, the ragged outfit, did his "shabby" makeup to go with it and finished up with untidied hair. He smiled to his own reflection in the mirror before his eyes wandered to the picture in the corner. Opening Night a year ago; Blaine and him, smiling to the camera; Blaine with a huge secret behind his golden eyes. Even to this day Kurt gets emotional just thinking about that night.

He got up with happiness stirring inside. This would be another night to remember, for different reasons, but still important and groundbreaking. His first stop was the stage itself. He loved the sense of calm before the storm hit this very spot. Jason was struggling with a top light above the side of the stage, balancing on a tall ladder that was kept steady from the ground by Vladimir. The two men were too busy to notice Kurt as they worked together on whatever issue the spot was causing, Vladimir described what he could see from the ground as Jason tested different options. Whenever Jason needed a tool Vladimir gave a shout out to Michelle. She would then appear around the corner, only halfway done with her makeup, trying to help the best way possible. Kurt couldn't help smiling. It was rare to see cast and crew work that closely together, but considering what they had endured together it was possible that everybody in this production had gotten really close.

Michelle was the first one to discover Kurt and she immediately strode to him with eager eyes. "Thank god you're here I need your opinion about this." She pointed to her face and monitored his reaction carefully.

Then he realized that each side of her face had different makeup on. "Oh," he said and looked closely. "Um the left side is a big vague and I think your right side is too dark." He stepped back, trying to make a dicition. "Keep the makeup around your eyes pretty strong and tone down your lips. Big eyes are signaling innocence, while painted lips are more suggestive."

"Thank you," she said and got up on her toes to give him a peck on his cheek before she disappeared around the corner again.

Kurt moved on smitten by her enthusiasm when he bumped into Ally. She was struggling with the gown of the Evil Queen, Morgana. "Certain things shouldn't be left to strangers," she muttered with needles squeezed between her lips in one side. She looked up, removed the needles and snapped a thread between her teeth. "Hey Kurt. Just have to deliver this," she said. "Come walk with me."

He took the big gown out of her hands and followed along. "Any major crises?"

"No, just minors," she answered and exhaled before she took the crook of his arm and shot him a tired smile. "But after tonight it's not my problem anymore, then Eva will take over again."

"And then what? Any new projects for you?" Kurt asked.

"Fred and I will take a vacation, nothing big, just getting away from New York for a few weeks. How about you and Blaine?

"We're planning a trip to Italy late in the summer.

"Oh my god that's so amazing," Ally responded. "I've always wanted to go to Europe, but I think it will have to wait until my bundle of joy has arrived." She subconsciously stroke the babybump that was now visible. "You have to tell me all about it when you guys come back."

"Promise," Kurt said. "And how is everything with your bundle of joy by the way?"

"Oh she's fine, I've already felt a little splash from in there," Ally laughed.

"Do you know it's a girl?" Kurt asked excited.

"Nope, it would just be a lot more fun sewing girls clothes than boys."

"Unless you Ally-up boys clothes so they come in more than blue and green," Kurt said dryly.

"I love when the designer in you wakes up, Hummel."

" I know," Kurt said and delivered the big gown to the Evil Queen herself. While Ally stayed back and helped out in the dressing room Kurt saw a glimpse of Charlene. "Hey girl, wait up," he said and adjusted his step to her quick pace.

She gave him a once over. "Hey poor guy with ripped clothes, do I know you?"

"Sweet, and I take that as a compliment," Kurt claimed.

"You should. Have you seen, Dub by the way? she asked, looking around.

"Um no, not for awhile," Kurt answered. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, I'm just tying up the last loose ends before curtain call." She smiled. "How about you, are you ready?"

"Please, I was born to do this. I'm sure I performed in my mother's womb."

"Why does that not sound crazy at all." She whispered loudly.

"Where are the dancers?"

"Warming up."

"And Kevin and Lucy?

Charlene stopped for the first time. "Lucy is pale as a sheet and Kevin is trying to be brave but he is barely keeping it together."

Kurt chuckled "That is so adorable. I'll go talk to them."

Charlene squeezed his arm. "That would be great, then I'll continue my search for Dub."

Kurt didn't have to look for the children for long. They hung out in one of the common dressing rooms, all dressed up and with makeup on. Kevin was rehearsing his routine and Lucy sat down, stone faced in front of a mirror. Kurt met her eyes in the reflection. "Hey beautiful girl," he said softly and turned her around as to break the spell.

"Kurt, I can not do it. I thought I was so cool about this and professional and all, but I'm nothing like that. I'm pretty sure I'll pee my pants, or my dress in this case, and I will embarrass myself and be a disappointment to Dubrowski. And if I don't pee, I'll probably just fall and not know how to catch up with the routine again. And I will  _never_ ,  _ever_  be picked to do another show for as long as I live. This was a huge mistake!"

Kurt stopped her ramble as soon as she paused for a breath and took her hands in his. "Lucy Margaret Hamlin. You know, just as well as I, that all those things you just said was your fear talking. It's trying to take control over you and if you don't fight back fear will keep pushing you around. I can't promise you that your performance will be perfect tonight. Most of us will make minor mistakes, but most times the audience won't notice if you don't give yourself away." Kurt glanced at Kevin. He was pretending not to listen, but he did. "The two of you have nailed every rehearsal and I promise that everybody on that stage are friends and they will catch you if you fall and help you through this night." He squeezed her hands. "And tomorrow you will be a little less nervous and as the nights go on you will be able to enjoy every minute you get to be in the spotlight. You will add little details and experience how amazing it is to be part of a group that turns stories into magic, night after night."

The girl exhaled and managed to give a small smile in return. But then she caved and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she whispered.

A lump got caught in Kurt's throat. "Oh you're welcome," he whispered back, surprised by his own emotions. He got up and walked the distance to Kevin. "You're ready?" he asked, knowing his approach to the boy had be slightly different.

"Yeah, I'm cool," Kevin said and tried to broaden his small chest. "Better make the best of it, right? Who knows if I'll get a chance like this ever again."

Kurt was puzzled. "If you want to I'm sure there is more for you. You have pretty solid connections after all."

"Um, I'm just thinking if Dub will ever need me again."

Kurt heard the hope in the boys voice. "You know he just might. I can tell he has been very happy to work with the two of you."

Kevin smiled sincerely and forgot all about his chest. "He is really cool," he said. "I mean not as cool as you, obviously, but close."

"Oh my god, you almost blew that one, Kev," Kurt said with a laugh. "But … I'm glad you like him."

"Of course I do," Kevin said.

From the common dressing room Kurt had one more stop to do. He wanted to find Dub. They needed this final  _break a leg_ before he was ready to enter the stage himself. He found him in his office, but the sight that met him was slightly different than he had imagined. Dubrowski stood with a magnificent bouquet of flowers in his arms and an uncertain, bewildered expression.

"Wow those are really beautiful," Kurt stated and smiled.

"Yes, yes, they are … quite extraordinary," Dub stuttered.

Their eyes met. "Who are they from?"

"Um … Joyce." Dubrowski blushed. "I know it's a bit overwhelming, but it must be because I've taken good care of Kevin and Lucy, right?"

Kurt leaned against the doorframe . "I'm sure it is ... among other things."

"I … Kurt, I don't know what to do," Dubrowski confessed. "This must be weird for you … I mean. You and Blaine are so close with her … and ... anyway, I'm not sure she means anything by it."

"With a bouquet that size?" Kurt smirked. "Dub, that's got to mean  _something_ , don't you think?"

Dubrowski cleared his throat. "Could be, I don't know."

"Look Dub, I'm not blind," Kurt said. "I've seen the two of you together and … I don't want you to hold back because of me. If you're the one making Joyce and Kevin happy, I would never interfere. Just .. give me some time to break it to Blaine," he begged.

"Oh, of course, of course, I would never be inconsiderate, but honestly ... I don't know if she really would want someone as damaged as me."

"We all get damaged one way or another," Kurt declared. "Joyce is damaged in her own way. Raising Kevin on her own hasn't been easy. But a lot can happen on Opening Nights, take it from me. It's like a new beginning."

Charlene popped in. "Wow Dub, those flowers are beautiful. Let me get you something to put them in. They will look lovely on your desk." She reached out for the flowers without a hint of surprise that he had been given them in the first place. "When I come back I have a few questions for you, oh and Kurt, a very gorgeous man with a bouquet of red and yellow roses is looking for you."

Kurt felt his heartbeat quicken. "I better hunt him down then, he sounds like a keeper."

* * *

Kurt had almost forgotten how overwhelming the rush of adrenalin could be entering the stage. But once there and settled in the familiar dialogue, he knew there was no other place he'd rather be. His voice rose effortlessly until it soared underneath the ornamented ceiling; the top notes clear as crystal and the bottom notes filled with sorrow and hurt. Just like Blaine had composed it for him. Michelle had been slightly stiff in the beginning, but once she trusted him to catch her, she relaxed and played along.

As predicted there were a few hiccups here and there, but no major mistakes and the applause when the cast took their final bow was magnificent and intoxicating. Flowers were given to key persons introduced by Stevenson, who seemed to be in a brilliant mood. But when Kurt received his bouquet Dubrowski was handed the microphone instead.

"I've been allowed to say a few things tonight," he started, "even though I'm sure the cast and crew are a bit tired of my voice by now." A muffled laugh was heard from the stage. "But there are three people I would like to tribute in a very special way." He put his hand above his eyes to see through the spotlight. "Blaine Anderson and Ally Cole , why don't you come up here with the rest of us."

The audience applauded as Blaine and Ally shyly found their way through the rows. "Please come and stand next to Kurt," Dubrowski encouraged them. Once there Kurt reached out his hand and gave them both a peck on their cheeks.

"Did you know about this? Blaine whispered through a stiff smile as he too received flowers.

"No," Kurt said truthfully, "but I'm sure it's something good."

"These three people are the heart and soul behind A Song For Cordelia," Dubrowski continued. "Kurt has written the play, Blaine has composed all the beautiful songs you've heard tonight and Ally has designed the costumes. I have been lucky enough to get to know especially Kurt and Blaine during the setup of this production. And I will tell you, apart they are talented, but together they are a force of nature. Because of them I've been on a personal journey that has changed my perspective and my life. Kurt, thank you for everything you've given me, the cast and the crew over the last two months and please promise me that you, together with Blaine and Ally, will create more amazing musicals that will gain recognition on stages all over the world."

A standing ovation backed up the beautiful words Dubrowski had spoken. Blaine intertwined their hands. "This is crazy," he said with a happy smile and looked at Kurt.

Kurt tightened his grip. "Wall of Fame, remember? We are going to get there, baby, just like we dreamed about."

"Gershwin theater," Blaine responded. "I will never forget."

* * *

"So, tell me your secret," Stevenson said with his deep familiar voice and a wide smile.

Kurt had changed into his own clothes and was getting ready for the afterparty. Blaine was waiting for him together with Cooper and Katie in the hall. "I don't usually tell secrets," he said, "especially not when I don't know which secret."

"What did you do to Dubrowski?" The big blunt guy looked puzzled. "I mean, how did you go from that terrible meeting at my office with a Russian guy ready to destroy you, to whatever happened tonight? Dubrowski  _asked_  me permission to give you and Blaine a special tribute. I hadn't seen that coming in a million years, I swear to god."

Kurt hummed as he put on his jacket. "I haven't done much but Dub on the other hand has worked harder than anyone I know."

"Is _that_  so," Stevenson said in disbelief.

"Honest truth," Kurt replied with a smile.

"I'll be damned. I've always respected you, you know that, Hummel, but I didn't think you would pull this one through." Stevenson scratched the nape of his neck. "Is there anything I can do for you in return?"

Kurt sat down on the edge of the table with folded arms." Yes, I think there is."

"Shoot."

"Keep him!"

"Dubrowski?"

"Yes," Kurt confirmed.

"Well, he's got one more play on his contract so I'm not about to fire him, if that's what you worry about."

"Renew his contract."

Stevenson pointed his lips. "What if he stops behaving the minute you're out the door?" he asked.

"He won't, it has nothing to do with me."

"I don't know Kurt," Stevenson wavered.

"It's your call, obviously," Kurt stated, "but if you sign him for another season, you won't regret it. That's my honest opinion."

A thoughtful expression showed on the CEO's face. "I'll think about it," he said after awhile, "I promise. Have you thought about my offer to you?"

"I have," Kurt answered with a genuine smile. "And we've all agreed. "By Blackbird" would love to have you as our agent. So if you could work out a contract we can go on from there."

Stevenson barked out a laugh and shook Kurt's hand. "I'm mighty glad to hear that. You just wait and see. I'll take A Song For Cordelia all the way to the big Broadway stages.

Kurt leaned closer. "You really think that could happen?"

"Watch me," Stevenson said and laughed again until his big belly was jumping up and down.

Kurt still had a smile on his face when he had left Stevenson, that was until Victor blocked his way with his arms crossed and a suggestive look in his eyes. "So, Hummel, don't forget to save a slow dance for me at the afterparty. I've been told you've got some great moves on the floor."

"Forget it, Vic," Kurt sighed and moved on.

"Well you can't blame a guy for trying, right?" Victor said from behind.

Kurt could hear the smirk in his voice and even though he had decided to let it go he changed his mind and turned around. "Actually I can."

"Can what?" Victor asked, hope already rising.

Kurt stepped closer. "Blame you for trying." Victor's face faltered. "Have I ever in any way indicated that I wasn't completely happy with Blaine? Have I lead you on in some mysterious way? Because if I have, please let me know so I don't mislead someone again."

Victor's jaw muscled up. "You know, Kurt Hummel, you might as well come down from that high horse of yours. You and Blaine try to push this image of a perfect couple but I'm not buying it. Everybody knows that Blaine cheated on you a couple of years ago and that he was the cause of a broken engagement. So don't walk around thinking the two of you are better than the rest of us and make us believe that you're  _oh so happy_."

Kurt was surprised by the attack but he stood tall when he answered back. "I'll tell you a little secret, Vic, a happy relationship isn't about the mistakes that are made or not made. It's about how you move on from your mistakes and how you learn from them. And if you could truly understand that, maybe you'll meet a guy one day who will say  _yes_  to you, despite your mistakes."

Victor stepped closer with fisted hands and anger trembling on his face. "You better be really careful about what you say next," he warned. But Kurt didn't budge.

"For your information I broke the nose on a bodyguard twice your size about a month ago. I'm not scared of you," he said calmly.

Victor clenched his teeth and glared back, but then he retreated, rushed past Kurt, cursing all the way to the hall and out into the street.

* * *

The following weeks were crazy in a good way. Kurt performed every night at The Ensemble with only Mondays off, while Blaine and Ally prepared Mercedes and Sam's arrival to New York. Blaine worked on the setlist for a welcome concert with Sam. He wanted it to be a special event, so the fans could get to know the newest member of Sound Of Seduction. He and Matt hyped it on the band's YouTube channel and made Sam record a couple of vines to introduce himself.

In the meantime Ally worked on the apartment at the loft, sewing new curtains, bedsheets and pillows. Fred made a portable screen that would divide the work area from the apartment and offer a bit more privacy.

The day Sam and Mercedes finally came, tired, happy and tearing up, Kurt and Blaine had prepared a small welcome party. Only those closest to the new New Yorkers were invited, which meant Finn and Rachel, Santana, Brittany, Kurt and Blaine. They all met at the loft and enjoyed some nice take-out, introducing a Chinese restaurant near by.

The last days in LA had been hectic and emotional. Sam and Mercedes had both had a hard time saying goodbye to Puck and Artie, but at the same time they were looking so much forward to getting settled in the big apple. When Kurt had to leave for the theater, everyone else helped clean up and left Sam and Mercedes to get some much appreciated sleep.

After a couple of days it became obvious how well things worked out at the loft. Sam and Mercedes never felt alone and they needed people around them as things were new to them in almost every area of their lives. Mercedes had been attending a few meetings with agents Rachel had recommended, while Sam had spend time with the band. Everybody usually met for lunch and one Tuesday Santana and Charlene joined them.

"Sam, we have a business proposition for you," Santana said when everybody was done eating and Sam had entertained them with his first location mistakes in the big city.

"What kind of proposition?" he asked.

"You know how I'm not a big fan of churches, right?" Santana said. "God and I are doing just fine without the interference of Christians and buildings. But Charlene's church seems to get the total  _love your neighbor_  and everything - and  _that_  I'm cool with. Anyway, this church is located in a pretty rough area with a lot of kids getting themselves into trouble. They want to start some sort of youth club where the kids can hang out or attend different art classes. Charlene will teach dance and I would like to get some of them to sing. If I'm not mistaken some of those troubled kids may have talents they are not even aware of. But we need someone to connect with the boys, maybe teach them to play the guitar and we really think you could be that guy."

Sam looked at her with a thoughtful frown. "This isn't some sort of charity project called  _get Sam a job_ , right? Because I don't need that."

"Don't you think I respect you more than that, Sam Evans?" Santana asked squinting.

"I hope you do," Sam answered, " and I'm sorry for asking but I need to know for sure."

Charlene jumped in before Santana got mad for real. "This has been a dream of mine, Sam, for a couple of years at least," she explained. "Six months ago I mentioned it to the reverend and to my surprise he'd been thinking about something similar. Then Tana came along and she loved the idea from the very start." The girls smiled at each other. "We've been to a couple of meetings with the leadership of the church and they have agreed to finance the project the best way they can," Charlene continued. "Your name came up when Tana realized you and Mercedes were moving to New York; she said we couldn't get a better guy for the job."

Sam caught Santana's eyes again. "Sorry," he repeated, "I didn't mean to doubt your intentions. I'm just sensitive about these things, that's all."

Santana softened. "Of course and I should have known that. I've just ... I've been so excited to tell you about this and I know you will be perfect for the job. It doesn't pay much, at least not in the beginning, but it could develop into something bigger."

A spark showed in Sam's blue eyes. "What do you think, baby?" he asked turned to Mercedes.

"Oh no, Sam, that's your decision," she said with a laugh. "You know I'll support your decision no matter what, but it's  _your_  choice."

"Can I think about it?" Sam asked.

"Sure," Santana answered.

A lopsided smile showed on Sam's face. "Okay, I've thought about it. Of course I'll do it." Santana fist pumped in the air and Blaine, Kurt and Ally cheered.

"That job has  _Sam_  written all over it," Blaine claimed happily. "One time Sam came to New York to cheer me up and we ended up in Central Park making an impromptu concert with a homeless guy?"

Sam scratched his head. "Yeah, I guess equals attract."

* * *

The welcome concert was booked at the Cavazz; a music bar in Soho where everything had taken off for Sound Of Seduction more than two years ago. The owner, Bill, had become a huge fan of the band and they had an open invitation to the weekly "It's not all Jazz" nights.

They could easily have filled a bigger venue, as Kurt regularly pointed out, but Blaine loved the closeness and the atmosphere that the smaller places offered. He felt more in touch with the audience and loved to see faces respond to the music.

Sam had been in boot camp for the last week in order to catch up with the setlist and the repertoire in general. Mercedes was invited as a guest soloist and she had blown the bands minds at rehearsals.

Everybody was invited, family and friends, the LA gang, the New York fans and people connected to any of the above. Artie, Quinn and Puck had arrived the day before and Mike had been in New York for a couple of days. He had already seen A Song For Cordelia twice and he had been a huge help with the last minute arrangement details before the concert as well. His dance tour was on hiatus for two months and he had decided to spend the summer in New York.

On the night of the concert Kurt did a lot of mingling while the band was preparing backstage. He wanted to make sure everybody was having a good time. Finn and Rachel were entertaining Burt and Carole, while Cooper and Katie were catching up with the Andersons. Santana was proudly introducing Charlene to everyone who hadn't met her and Kurt joined them for awhile.

He was deeply involved in a conversation with Sam's parents when he suddenly caught a glimpse of Dubrowski and Joyce, holding hands. His heart dropped to the floor. He knew Joyce had been invited but no one had talked about Dub. He quickly scanned the room for Blaine, but he still appeared to be behind the stage. Then he walked the distance to the happy couple.

"Oh hi," he stuttered, as if he incidentally had bumped into them and that everything was alright. He wondered if he could ask them to keep low tonight without offending anyone. "What a nice surprise. I hadn't expected to see you here," he added and looked at Dubrowski. "I mean you're more than welcome."

Joyce leaned over and gave Kurt a warm hug. "Blaine invited us both and we're thrilled to be here," she said with a knowing smile.

"Did ... I mean ... okay so Blaine invited you." Kurt bit his lip. "That's just ... really sweet of him." His mind was racing "Great, great ... and where's Kevin?"

"He's with Mira," Joyce explained. "They have been on a theater raid today. Mira got tickets for three different plays and now they're at home watching musicals."

Kurt turned speechless at first but then it felt like a burden rolled off of his shoulders and he almost laughed. "That's ... that's just amazing," he said. "I can imagine Kevin having the time of his life."

"Mira too, to be honest," Dubrowski added. "He will have Kevin turned into a theater nerd in no time."

"I agree," Kurt chuckled. "The boy is a lost cause from now on."

They chatted on for awhile until Kurt felt it was alright to excuse himself again. He  _had_  to talk to Blaine before showtime, because he might have invited Dub along, but Kurt doubted Blaine fully understood what was going on. He was usually the last one to detect when people around him were falling in love. Kurt had to fight his way through groups of talking and laughing people, all wanting to chat with him, which meant he didn't reach Blaine until a few minutes before count down.

"Hey baby" Blaine said the moment he saw him. "Is everything okay?"

"Wow, I'm usually the one asking you that question before a gig," Kurt mumbled.

"But you're the one looking a bit lost."

"Um, did you invite Dub for tonight, together with Joyce?" Kurt asked.

Blaine smiled "Yeah, I did. I hope it's alright. It just felt like the right thing to do, all things considered."

"Considered what?" Kurt repeated, just to make sure they were on the same page.

"Don't you know?" Blaine asked baffled. "They are dating now." He patted Kurt's shoulder. "Try to keep up here, baby. You're usually the smartest one of us about these things - and it happened on your watch." He gave Kurt a quick kiss and winked before he disappeared.

"I cannot believe this just happened," Kurt mumbled in disbelief.

* * *

When the band hit the stage it was to a deafening applause. Josh started up a solid beat on the drums, groovy and laid back, while Blaine spoke in the mic. "Ladies and gents, my name is Blaine Anderson. I'm here to welcome you to an amazing night where we hope to entertain you to the fullest and bring _this house down_! On the drums we have Josh Litmann, the youngest member of the band, but also the loudest." Josh turned up the volume even more and rocked, receiving a heavy applause from the younger females in the audience.

"On the piano," Blaine continued, "no other than the beautiful, ridiculously talented, Megan Steadham". Meg hit the coolest chords with an organ sound that cut through the room like a musical saw.

"The next member you need to pay attention to is our bass player. He can groove your socks off and make you move like you've never dreamed you were capable of. Give it up for Matthew Connor." Matt took off with a simple riff and then added layer after layer until the meanest slap bass made people roar.

"But as you know, that is not all," Blaine thundered into the mic. "Sound Of Seduction have a new member. For two solid years I have begged this guy to join the band. Now my dreams have finally come true. He has moved to New York with his girlfriend and I promise you that together they will leave their mark on this fine city, starting tonight here in Soho. Please, make some noise for the amazing, once in a lifetime, Mr. Sam Evans!"

Sam stepped up on stage with a shy smile, looking overwhelmed when the applause rose to a roar again. But the minute his fingers hit the strings on his guitar, he conquered his part of the staged like he had belonged there all along.

Now the groove changed to Uptown Funk and Blaine made people clap to the beat. "You may think the surprises are done for tonight. But we are just getting started. Because tonight we have our very own  _brass ensemble_." Three guys, sitting randomly among the audience got up from their seats and started playing on shiny instruments, a horn, a saxophone and a trombone. Playing along they found their way up on stage and made silly big band moves as they settled in.

Blaine threw his head backwards with the end of the mic pointing to the ceiling.

This hit

That ice cold

Michelle Pfeiffer

That white gold

This one, for them hood girls

Them good girls

Straight masterpieces

Stylin', while in

Livin' it up in the city

Got Chucks on with Saint Laurent

Got kiss myself I'm so pretty

I'm too hot - hot damn

Called a police and a fireman

I'm too hot - hot damn

Make a dragon wanna retire man

I'm too hot - hot damn

Say my name you know who I am

I'm too hot - hot damn

Am I bad 'bout that money

Break it down

Kurt secretly snapped for air. He would never get tired of watching Blaine perform with the band and especially not when he hit his  _I'm-up-to-no-good_  vibe, making moves that shouldn't be allowed in public. He let his eyes follow the curves in the tight pants, up to Blaine's broad chest and his strong arms. But it was his half opened eyes and his tempting lips Kurt lingered on.

Don't believe me just watch

Don't believe me just watch

Don't believe me just watch

Don't believe me just watch

The applause lasted into the next song

Get up offa that thing

and dance 'till you feel better

Get up offa that thing

and dance 'till you, sing it now

Get up offa that thing

and dance 'till you feel better

Get up offa that thing,

and shake 'till you feel better

Get up offa that thing

and shake it, say it now

Get up offa that thing

and shake 'till you feel better

Get up offa that thing

and try to release that pressure

Get up off

Ha

Good God

so good

The big band vibe carried through song after song. As usual it was a mix of covers and Blaine's songs. And with a growing fanbase that knew the songs from YouTube it felt like a known repertoire either way. Half an hour later the band shuttled into a more laid back style until most of the audience sat down again and just listened intensely to the music.

Closing up first set offered yet another surprise. "We have one more unexpected treat for you guys tonight," Blaine said and gulped down water before wiping the sweat off his face with a towel. "This singer has been a friend of mine since high school, and you know, you sometimes think that you know people really well based on the years of your friendship. But it wasn't until recently I truly understood just how strong, kind and giving she really is. And my friendship with her will be treasured forever. On top of that her voice is amazing! This is why I'm so honored to introduce to you, Miss Mercedes Jones!"

The band cheered just as much as the audience when Mercedes entered the stage wearing a big toothy smile. Then she centered herself and waited for quietness. With closed eyes she hummed along to the intro of the song, only accompanied by simple piano chords and a lonely trumpet, weeping each note into the room.

_The first time ever I saw your face_

_I thought the sun rose in your eyes_

_And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave_

_To the dark and the endless skies, my love_

_To the dark and the endless skies_

_And the first time ever I kissed your mouth_

_I felt the earth move in my hands_

_Like the trembling heart of a captive bird_

_That was there at my command, my love_

_That was there at my command, my love_

_And the first time ever I lay with you_

_I felt your heart so close to mine_

_And I knew our joy would fill the earth_

_And last till the end of time, my love_

_And it will last till the end of time, my love_

_The first time ever I saw your face, your face_

_Your face, your face_

The last note from her was fragile as breaking glass and yet so controlled that in a few seconds not a sound was heard . Then came the applause, exploding and persistent.

_Ladies and Gentlemen, Mercedes Jones._

* * *

The concert became everything Blaine and the band had hoped for and after an equally successful second set they gathered backstage to enjoy the humongous adrenalin rush they all shared. When everyone had changed and was preparing to go out and talk to their families and friends, Mercedes decided to make some sort of a video diary. She zoomed in on Sam and Blaine, having a blast with each other.

"Say something for the camera boys," she pleaded.

"Something," Sam said and winked.

"You have to do better than that, baby," Mercedes complained.

"Okay," Sam said and grabbed a bottle of water from the table, using it as a mic. He put on a show face. "I'm standing here with the crazily talented, Blaine Devon Anderson, after one of his sold out concerts. And I'll tell you, the atmosphere in there has been exhilarating and it may not be too much of a stretch to say that mister Anderson's street credit is in par with no other than The President Of The United States." He looked at Blaine and continued with a shiny smile. "You're a musician with a band of your own, on the verge of getting a record deal. You're a composer with a Broadway musical on your resume ...,"

"Off," Blaine added into the water bottle and smiled to the camera.

"Off what?" Sam said puzzled through his stiff smile.

"Off-Broadway," Blaine explained, eyes still on the camera.

"Ahh, of course. But there's even more. You're a talented dancer and a spoken for tudor for the future talents out there. What's next?" Sam asked. "Have you done it all or do you have a secret goal up your sleeves? World domination? Ending poverty? Anything you can share with us?" Sam pointed the mic at Blaine once more.

"Um actually I  _do_  have something new coming up," Blaine answered with smiling eyes. "I'm going to propose to my boyfriend … and when I propose, the world  _will_  know!"


End file.
